Happiness in the strangest form
by Originalitys
Summary: Someone is after Hermione, and someone is trying to take her daughter, but she only knows about one of these facts. Draco is the only one who can really help her, but he doesn't even know it yet. I own nothing but the plot and non-canon characters. R   M
1. Letters and Eggs

**Disclaimer is in the summary, but in case you missed it, The loverly J.K Rowling owns the characters in this story (Well, most of them) and I am most definitely not getting paid for this. I wish I was, but wishes don't always come true. Leave a review, lovelies. I hope you like my story.**

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><p>"Just one more push, honey; just one more."<p>

There was a loud scream, multiple laboured pants and then the sound of a baby crying.

"It's a girl," the nurse said, and then there was the sound of a woman's happy gasp and joyful tears, which quickly turned to saddened weeps.

"Is there anyone you'd like to call, dear?" another nurse asked, handing what she assumed was a happily sobbing woman her baby. "Any family you need to inform?"

"No," she replied, gently running a thumb across the cheek of her daughter's face as she cried. _I'll never regret this_. "My family is right here."

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><p>Three years later, Hermione Granger sat on the floor of her flat, surrounded by torn envelopes and letters from places she'd applied for a job, all of which were scribbled on with her somewhat-messy handwriting, and various pictures in red crayon.<p>

"Mummy! I hungy!" her daughter screeched from beside her.

"I know, Lissy, I know… just give me a minute," Hermione replied, crossing another job off her list of possible choices. She currently had three 'see us for an interview's, and five 'no's.

"Mummy! Wants food now!" the younger Granger slammed her three-year-old fist down on the ground, then proceeded to pick up a blue crayon from beside her and draw multiple scribbles on a letter from the Ministry of Magic.

"Felicity Bella Granger," her mother scolded. "What have I told you about drawing on my letters?"

"But I hungy, mummy… I needs food now," Felicity argued cutely, pouting.

Hermione sighed. "Alright," she said. Her daughter promptly stood and ran to the door of the kitchen as fast as her little legs would take her. "But then you sleep!" Her mother called after her as she stood to follow her.

As she cooked scrambled eggs for her three year old, Hermione noticed a small dot coming towards her, and she opened the window quickly as a large grey owl came into view, dropping a large stack of paper on the bench beside her. After checking that no muggles had seen – as she lived in a muggle neighbourhood, this was always a possibility – she handed the owl a treat and smiled as it flew off into the distance.

"Mail! Mail! We has mail!" her daughter squealed excitedly from her high-chair, bouncing up and down with a large grin on her face.

"Calm down, Lissy," Hermione chuckled, placing a small bowl of eggs in front of her. "Eat your lunch."

"Nummy! Eggs!" Felicity squealed, seeming to have forgotten the mail, which Hermione picked up from the bench, moving to sit at the table beside her daughter.

Among at least seven more what were probably rejection letters for the young mother, Hermione noticed a small piece of paper with very elegant writing on it. She pulled it from within the pile and looked it over. It read:

**Malfoy Magical Children's Childcare Centre**

_We are happy to offer our services to whoever requires them._

_Boarding is available, for a small fee, for those who are unable to travel daily to our area, or who require it; otherwise, there is the option of simple day-care._

_The children will be cared for by none other than me, the lady of the house, Narcissa Malfoy, and I will be assisted by multiple trained witches and wizards, along with the family house-elves – all of which have been freed, and are now working as paid employees for the family._

_If you wish your child to attend, do not hesitate to send a reply to the Manor, and we will get back to you as soon as possible._

_We are terribly sorry for our actions in the past, and we hope that we will be forgiven one day._

"They really must have been through a lot to go into the child-care business, hey, Lissy?" Hermione laughed, reaching over to read the _Daily Prophet _that sat on her table.

Her daughter just gave her a quizzical look before turning back to her eggs, which she promptly shovelled into her tiny mouth. Hermione just laughed again.

"Mummy... what's chile-car?" Felicity asked after a minute, finally finished with her eggs. Hermione stood up, taking their plates over to the sink and washing them the muggle way.

"Child care, honey," she said. "That's where mummies and daddies take their babies while they work. Someone else looks after them, and then the mummy and daddy come to pick them up and take them home." Hermione tried to explain it in terms her three-year-old would understand, but she knew she didn't have to try hard – her daughter was intelligent for her age.

"My go chile-car, mummy?"

"If mummy gets a job, maybe," Hermione replied. "Do you want to go to-" she was cut off when a large black owl flew in through the still-open window and landed on the bench. "Two owls in one day," she murmured, pouring herself and her daughter a drink of juice each. "I'm popular."

She swiftly untied the note from the owl's leg, fed it a small treat for its trouble, and when it didn't fly away, she made a noise in confusion and walked to the next room to grab a quill, because the sender obviously wanted an immediate reply.

She walked back into the kitchen, rubbing the top of her daughter's head – which caused her daughter to giggle – and placing her juice in front of her before taking a seat at the table. She opened the envelope, addressed to no one but 'Granger' and she promptly spat out her drink as she read it.

_Granger,_

_Long time; no see; I hope things are well. Mother has heard from one of her 'sources' that you're back in England and have got yourself a child, and she was hoping that you'd stop by the Manor to talk about her child-care program. She's also strangely eager to meet your child. It would be appreciated if you could send a reply with Deacon as soon as possible – he's been instructed not to leave until you do – and let me know if and when you're going to meet up with her. Any time that suits you would suit her, so long as it's within reasonable visiting times for normal human beings. Again, she is incredibly eager to meet your child – please, do inform me beforehand if it's a girl or a boy, referring to it as 'your child' isn't ideal – and she hopes that you will consider taking up her offer of a month's care, free of charge, while you settle down and find a job. (_This is where she spat out her drink)_ I advise against saying no, as my mother is a persistent woman, and she will eventually come to you. Once again, I hope things are well._

_Malfoy_

_P.S. I'll have you know that my mother has been standing over my shoulder as I write this, and she sends her regards. Try not to keep her waiting, Granger. She's trying hard to get on your good side._

"He's absolutely bonkers!" Hermione exclaimed, wiping the juice from the table as her daughter laughed. "He expects me to write to him! And to see his mother! Ugh! He's infuriated me without even seeing me face to face! The nerve of that man!"

"Mummy?" Felicity asked, curious at her mother's outburst.

"Yes honey?"

"My wanna go chile-car."

Hermione stared at her daughter for a minute, attempting to calm herself, before she smiled. "Alright honey, I'll see what I can do."

Her daughter squealed in excitement and began jumping in her seat, grinning like she was the happiest girl alive. Hermione laughed.

"How would you feel about meeting the child care lady, Lissy?" she asked.

Her daughter's only answer was to squeal even louder, her grin widening.

The young mother picked up her quill and a piece of parchment from beside her and promptly wrote a reply to her childhood rival.

_Malfoy,_

_So glad to hear from you; it has been a while, hasn't it?_ Not that I'm protesting, Hermione thought with a smirk. _I hope things with you are well. My daughter is as eager to meet your mother as your mother appears to be to meet her, so I'm taking that as a good sign. I am free at any time, as I have absolutely nothing, aside from Felicity, to entertain me while I search for a job. Perhaps meeting her for lunch tomorrow would be appropriate? I do hope that that is 'within reasonable visiting times for normal human beings' and if not, please, do enlighten me as to what is. If you or your mother could let me know when and where she would like to meet me, I'd be happy to discuss with her the details of the free services she is offering. I hope to hear from you soon._

_Hermione_

_P.S. Since my mother isn't looking over my shoulder as I write this, and my daughter is dangerously close to spitting her juice all over me and this parchment, I would like to inform you that, while your letter came as a surprise to me, the way you addressed me shocked me more. You still presume I am a Granger? How oddly forward of you. I also hope that you let your mother know that she does not have to try as hard to get on my good side as you would, were you in the same position._

She fed the owl – Deacon – another treat, tied the letter to his leg, closed the window, picked up her daughter – who'd fallen asleep in her chair – and took her to her crib, then she resumed her place on her floor, sorting through her multiple rejection letters.

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><p><strong>An: Okay, I know you guys are gonna start freaking out over the OOC-ness in the next couple of chapters - which I hope to upload eventually, depending on the feedback and stuff - but there's a kid. She's going to influence the way they act and stuff, it's only natural. I also don't want heaps of... stuff about the three-year-old talk. I'm not three, so I don't know how they speak, and I'm writing it the way that I think she would talk because I'm all for character-building by voice. By the way, when Lissy says 'chile-car' she's not saying it like 'chilly car', she's saying it like it looks like... chiyall car or something. XD Anyway, writing this to let you know this is the first multi-chapter fan-fic I've written, and I'd appreciate not being judged too harshly, if you can help it. The title is only _kind of _temporary, but it will stay like that until I can think of a better one... if I think of a better one, that is.**

**I also realise that I didn't describe what Felicity looks like too much (at all, I think), but... that's all a surprise. JUST WAIT FOR THE REST OF THE STORY. XD**

**I also don't presume to know how prestigious rich magical people write child-care ad/brochure/flyer things, I'm a total noob at that.**

**Do me a favour and review... I have to figure out how that whole thing works some time!**

**~Originalitys**


	2. Infuriating Midnight Owls

"Merlin, that woman infuriates me!" the recipient of Hermione's letter groaned, running a hand through his pale blonde hair as he fed his owl a treat. Deacon was more than pleased.

"Come now, Draco. I know for a fact your letter was less than polite," his mother chastised from her seat in the parlour. She took a sip of her tea as she watched her son scowl at the letter in his hands.

"Mother! She insulted me and mocked me with my own words!" her son retorted.

"Draco, I hardly think you're in a position to whine. You were rude, and she returned the favour. I admire her bravery." Narcissa said with a smile. "A true Gryffindor if I ever saw one. She's quite the woman, that one."

"Mother," Draco growled in protest.

"Draco, that's quite enough. Read me her letter."

The Malfoy Heir did so, leaving out the parts clearly addressed to him, and his mother smiled brightly. "Felicity… what a lovely name; Latin for happiness, isn't it?"

"Yes, mother," he replied, scrawling down a reply to Hermione's letter. "Will you meet her for lunch tomorrow?"

"Of course!" Narcissa beamed. "You'll pick her up, won't you?"  
>"What?" he exclaimed, turning to stare at her in shock as she sipped her tea. "You can't expect me to -!"<p>

"How else will she get past the wards?" his mother argued.

"You can't expect her to come here, mother," Draco replied. "After what happened-"

"All part of the process, dear; all part of the process. You will collect her, won't you?"

Draco turned back to writing the letter, rolling his eyes, and mumbled, "I don't see why we can't just change the wards. We'll need to if she sends her kid here."

"What was that, Draco?"

"I said, 'I'll have to see if she's okay with that. You want her to be comfortable enough to send her daughter here, don't you?"

"Yes, quite. Be polite, Draco. I don't want to ruin this."

He rolled his eyes again and continued writing.

"Read it back to me," his mother said after a few minutes.

_Granger,_

_My mother would love to meet with you for lunch tomorrow. She would like to know if you would consider joining her at the Manor for your meeting – both so it is easier to organise, and so you can show your daughter around, should you choose to accept her offer. If you decide to join her for lunch at the Manor, I will have to meet with you at whatever time to apparate you and your daughter, as the wards will not allow you in otherwise. Deacon will again wait until you reply to return._

_Malfoy_

_P.S. You will always be Granger to me, no matter the circumstances._

Narcissa nodded her approval before stepping towards the fireplace. "Call for me when she replies; I have to head over to the Parkinson's to meet with Pansy and her mother. I should be back by this evening. Goodbye, Draco."

"Goodbye, mother," Draco nodded as his mother disappeared in a burst of green flames, and he promptly sent Deacon off with Hermione's letter.

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><p>It was nearly midnight when the Malfoy owl flew through the heir's bedroom window. After nearly half a day of letter-based arguing, Hermione and Draco still stayed up to reply their competitor; both of the participants secretly anticipating the next letter from their rival.<p>

_Madam Malkin's, noon, be there._

Draco rolled his eyes at the short reply from Granger; they'd long since passed the P.S. and greeting/farewell stage. Taking out his quill, he scrawled a quick reply and sent Deacon on his way.

_I wouldn't have it any other way._

Draco was nearly asleep when Deacon flew in through his window for the last time, much to the owl's relief.

_Prat._

He sighed and rolled over, promptly falling to sleep… with a small smile on his face.

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><p><strong>An: Only short, just getting Draco more into the story, and a little explanation as to the title of the story. Ooh, how intriguing. XD I'll probably be updating this frequently over the next few days... or even hours... because, well, I already have the next few chapters written. Review and let me know if you see mistakes, or you think that someone is waaaay too out of character. I'd hate to disappoint. I'll try and keep the chapters long from now on, but I'm trying to keep them focused on one person at a time, instead of both in the same chapter. If it turns out like that, I'll split it into two separate chapters, so as not to confuse you all.**

**Again, I own nothing. Wish I did, but I don't. Well, I own Felicity, and her father, but no one else so far! Eh heh heh. I ain't tellin' you who he is, by the way. Felicity's father, I mean. AIN'T REVEALIN' NOTHIN' 'TIL THE STORY REQUIRES IT.**

**~ Originalitys**


	3. Icecream and Weasley!

"Mummy! Where we goin'?" Felicity asked as her mother took her hand. Hermione looked down at her daughter with what can only be describe as a look of absolute adoration on her face before she smiled and lifted her into her arms.

"We're going to see the child-care lady," she told her daughter. "But first we're going shopping."

"Chile-car lady, mummy?" her daughter asked with a smile. When Hermione nodded, Felicity squealed in excitement. "We buy ice-keem?"

"If we have time," her mother replied.

Felicity's only answer was to smile wider and squeal before her mother apparated them to Diagon Alley.

Felicity's eyes widened in shock at the apparition, but it quickly turned to wonder as her mother took her out into the centre of the alley.

There were wizards and witches of every shape and size, with robes of every colour, walking up and down the alley. The light tinkling of bells could be heard as people entered and exited the stores, and Hermione smiled in fondness as she also took in her surroundings. She walked past _Magical Menagerie_, remembering when she bought her first and only cat, Crookshanks, with a grin on her face, which widened as her daughter saw the owls.

"Do we got mail, mummy?" Felicity asked. "Is that a owl for us?"

"No, honey," Hermione chuckled. "Those are the store's owls."

"Does the shops gots mail?"

"No, honey," her mother repeated, smiling.

She took her daughter into a nearby building – a second-hand robe shop – and quickly headed to the children's section.

"Can I help you, miss?" a woman asked. Hermione turned from the rack she was staring at and locked eyes with a short blonde woman with light blue eyes and a large grin, which quickly changed to a small 'o' as she discovered who she was looking at.

"You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?" she asked.

"People are really still doing that?" Hermione replied, smiling. "Yes, that's me. I was wondering if I could get a price check on children's robes. I'm considering buying some, but I'm not sure I can afford them. That's why I came here first, instead of Madam Malkin's."

"Oh – Oh, yes, right away, I'll just-" the assistant gestured behind her. "I'll be right back."

The assistant quickly fled to the back of the store, leaving Hermione to giggle quietly as she waited.

"Silly wady," Felicity giggled.

"Silly indeed," Hermione replied.

After the assistant – whose name was Melanie – returned with the prices, Hermione thanked her, made a promise to come back, should she ever need to, sent her daughter's robes and her own home, and left the shop, heading straight for _Flourish and Blott's_.

"Hermione!" the owner called as she entered the book shop, rushing forward to greet her. "Oh," he said, slowing as he saw Felicity. He grinned. "Who's this little darling?" he asked as he patted her head of blonde hair.

"Fewicity," Hermione's daughter replied, beaming.

"Oh, isn't she just gorgeous!" the shop owner cooed. Hermione grinned, suddenly filled with pride.

"Oh, but never mind her," he said. "You look amazing, Hermione. It's been too long." He suddenly pulled the young mother into a hug, careful not to squish Felicity between them, before planting a small kiss on her cheek. He gestured to her daughter. "Clearly you've had a lot going on." They both laughed, stepping further into the store.

"What can I do for you, dear?"

"I'm afraid I've read all of my books again," she replied, laughing as the owner gave her a knowing smile. "I was looking to see if you had any new material that might interest me."

"Of course! Go, have a look around, I'll see if I've got any special new deliveries that you might like." The old man gave her another grin, then, after giving her daughter a small pat on the head, left Hermione to wander the book shop.

Hermione looked around the worn book store with a feeling of nostalgia. She remembered coming in each year, heading straight for the _Hogwarts: A History _section, and trying to convince her mother and father to buy the next edition for her. She headed there after a quick look around and was surprised to see that only one edition had been released since her time at the school.

"Magically charmed to update every year, that one," the store owner said over her shoulder, causing her to jump, which made her daughter squeal in delight.

"Again, mummy, again!" the toddler demanded, bouncing in her arms.

"Maybe later, honey," Hermione replied, turning to the shop owner. "I'll take it."

The shop owner simply grinned in response.

After another few minutes in _Flourish and Blott's_, Hermione bid farewell to her old friend, quickly sending the three books she had bought, along with the copy of _Hogwarts: A History _that she had been given for free - the store owner protested when she tried to buy it, as she had bought more than enough copies over the years, so she had no need – home to her flat.

"Ice-keem! Ice-keem! Ice-keem!" Felicity demanded once they were back in the alley.

Hermione chuckled, taking her daughter down the alley towards _Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour _to get some ice-cream for her and her daughter before they met Draco at _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_.

They were no more than a few metres away from the robe shop, Hermione just finishing her cone of ice-cream, when someone came barging past them at full speed. She barely registered a mop of red hair passing as her and her daughter stumbled, Hermione quickly moving to protect her daughter from falling underneath her. Before she could, however, a pair of strong arms caught her from behind, stopping her and her daughter from falling to the ground.

"Watch where you're going, Weasley!" they called after the culprit, lifting Hermione back up so she could stand by herself, leaving their hands resting on her elbows.

"Thanks," she mumbled, too busy checking her daughter was alright to look behind her at her saviour. "Are you okay, Lissy?"

Her daughter nodded before staring at something over her mother's shoulder with a small smile on her face. Hermione turned and instinctively took a step back, out of the person's grasp, to protect her daughter, as she locked eyes with Draco Malfoy.

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><p>To say that Draco was shocked when he saw Ronald Weasley charge past Hermione without a second glance would have been an understatement. He watched from the door of <em>Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions <em>as Hermione made her way towards him, and he managed to run to her just as the weasel knocked her to the side. He caught her by the elbows, making sure to keep his arm lifted, should the child in her arms slip from her grasp, and stayed that way as she checked if her daughter was alright.

Her daughter, Felicity Granger, was not what he expected. As he took in her blonde hair - disconcertingly similar to his - and her golden-brown eyes, the same colour as her mother's, he began to wonder if he was somehow related to the child. He quickly banished the thought from his mind as the child's mother turned and took a step away from him, releasing her from his grasp, as she stared at him in shock.

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><p><strong>An: Oh, hai. I'm on a roll, hey? I'm impatient to get all these out... I don't know why though. Anyway, I'll eventually stop with the constant updating and go at a normal pace... but I'M EXCITED, DAMMIT. :P**

**Oh, and for those that are interested there's a photo of what I imagine Lissy to look like on my profile. She's cute, no? I have to say, her hair should be slightly more wavy... like Hermione's in the last couple of films.**

**Review, lovelies! I'd love to hear from you! (Thanks to those that already did, by the way. You're too kind :D)**

**~ Originalitys**


	4. Apparently Happy Families

Hermione studied the man before her for several moments. He looked similar to the child she remembered from her school years, but different somehow. He looked more mature, he had filled out slightly, and the muscles were obvious in his arms as he held them up still from where he had held her by the elbows. He lowered them under her gaze and promptly shoved his hands into his jeans – wait… jeans? Malfoy was wearing _muggle _jeans? – Hermione's eyes widened in shock as she fully took in his appearance. He was wearing _all-muggle_ clothes. He had a not-too-loose loose-fitting white shirt on, and dark denim jeans, along with a pair of simple runners. Hermione refused to admit that he looked _attractive _in muggle clothes.

Felicity giggled as she watched him wave a hand in front of her mother's face.

"Silly person," the toddler said, still laughing while she stared at him.

Hermione looked at the youngster in her arms before giggling lightly; a sound which Draco suddenly found suited her. He quickly forced the thought from his mind as he realised the kid had just insulted him.

"Hey, that's not fair," he objected, his voice lighter than normal as he spoke to the toddler. "I'm not a silly person."

Hermione stared up at him, still shocked, but even more so because of his tone, and the small smile that graced his features.

"Yes you is!" the toddler told him. "You wave at mummy's face! You don't wave at faces!"

Draco couldn't help but grin wider as the toddler burst into laughter, finding that his actions were the most entertaining thing in the world. "Is that so?"

"Yes! Silly man! You wave at peoples, not faces!"

Draco rolled his eyes at the child, ignoring the glances that nearby people sent his way as they looked between the mother, her child, and the man talking to them – who, at the present time, looked like a happy family. Mother and child beaming at the man – who had obviously given his daughter her blonde hair – as he smiled back at them.

"I think she has a point," Hermione laughed.

"That's not fair, Granger. You're ganging up on me," Draco complained.

"You should know better than to pick a fight with one Granger, let alone two," the woman laughed.

"Ah, so you _are _still Granger. I knew it," he retorted smugly, ignoring Hermione when she rolled her eyes.

"I'm a Gwanger too!" Felicity squeaked, upset that she was being ignored. Hermione shifted her in her arms and smiled, poking her nose.

"Yes, honey, we know. That's what makes you so special. You're all mine!" with that, the young mother held her daughter gently underneath her arms and lifted her into the air, making her giggle like crazy as she brought her down to kiss her face multiple times before lifting her back into the air. She ignored the gazes people sent her way as she smiled up at her daughter with genuine happiness.

"Mummy!" her daughter objected in what could only be a childish groan as Hermione did it a third time. The toddler grabbed her mother's hair and refused to let go until she returned her to her place on her hip. Hermione was still grinning like a maniac when she turned back to Draco, who also had a small smile on his face after watching the interaction between mother and daughter. The two adults stared at each other; their smiles fading before Hermione looked away, straightening her daughter's shirt to distract her from the man before her.

"Are you ready to head to the Manor?" Draco asked after a silence. Hermione looked up from her daughter's smiling face to the man who was clearly apprehensive about the trip.

"Yes." She turned back to her daughter. "Ready to meet the child-care lady, Lissy?"

The youngster responded by bouncing excitedly and squealing as she gripped her mother's shirt. "Chile-car lady! Chile-car lady!"

"Are you sure you want to meet at the Manor? I can always get my mother to meet you somewhere else…" Draco wanted to make sure she was sure about the trip.

"Yes, Malfoy," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm sure. It's just a house, after all."

Though Hermione tried hard to hide it, Draco still noticed the insecurity in her eyes when she spoke about the manor. He opened his mouth to protest again but was cut off as Felicity spoke, pointing down the length of the alley.

"That man has hair like my cwayon, mummy! It's owange!"

Both Hermione and Draco stared in the direction the toddler pointed and saw the same thing she did – Ron Weasley marching towards them, an obvious scowl on his face.

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><p>"Malfoy…" Hermione said, stepping closer to him as Weasley came closer to them.<p>

Noticing the fear in her voice, Draco looked down at where she stood, clutching her daughter closely to her chest as she watched the red-head step past people and storm towards them. He raised a curious eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Malfoy, we need to go. We need to go, now, before he-"

"Hermione!" the weasel growled, causing heads to turn. He ignored them as he marched towards the woman in question. Hermione flinched, stepping even closer to Draco so she was nearly touching him. She held her child tighter against her chest.

"Mummy?" Felicity asked.

"Yes, honey?" Hermione asked, trying hard to keep the fear from her voice as she spoke to her child.

"Was wrong?"

"Nothing, honey. We're just going to talk to this man, and then we're going to see the child-care lady, okay?" She smiled slightly when her daughter nodded. "Okay."

By this point, Ron had reached them, and he was alternating between glaring daggers at Hermione and glaring daggers at Draco.

"Malfoy? What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked.

Hermione glared back at him, holding her hand over her daughter's ear in an attempt to stop her from hearing Ron's bad language.

"Don't swear around her, Ron! She's only a child!" Hermione growled.

"She's _my _child, and I can say whatever the fuck I want to."

"She's yours?" Draco asked, over the top of Hermione's loud "Ronald!"

"Yes, she's mine. Not that it's any of your business, Malfoy."

"She doesn't look like your child," Draco said, looking down at the girl in question. "In fact, she looks more like _my _child than _yours._"

"That's only because she's blonde, you ninny. If she had red hair, she'd look exactly like me."

"I find that hard to believe, Weasley." Draco said, crossing his arms.

"I'll show you then!" Ron began to pull out his wand, but before he could get it out of his pocket, Hermione had hers pushed up against his chest.

"If you so much as think about using any kind of spell on my daughter, I will make sure you never utter a word again." While her message was deadly in itself, the calm tone in which she delivered it made even Draco fear her slightly.

"She's my daughter, too, 'Mione."

Hermione glared, still pointing her wand at Ron's chest. She jabbed him with it, forcing him back a step, before pressing it against his chest again. "She is _not _your daughter, Ronald. She never has been and she never will be. I don't want you anywhere near her, do you hear me? You lost your chance at a family with me when you got with Lavender. Felicity is my daughter, and mine alone, and you will not have anything to do with her. And don't call me 'Mione ever again." Hermione looked up at Draco with a question in her eyes, and he nodded, reaching out to grab hold of her hand – which she slowly lowered from Weasley's chest. Ron breathed a sigh of relief, taking half a step back from her.

"Goodbye, Ronald. Send my regards to your whores." Hermione said, and before Ron could even blink, they were gone, slipping through a tight black tube and appearing suddenly at the front door of Malfoy Manor.

"Does the funny man have a pony, mummy?" Felicity asked, pulling her head back from her mother's chest once she recovered.

Hermione looked up at Draco, who released his hold on her hand as soon as she was able to stand by herself, and they both burst out laughing.

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><p><strong>An: Oh, like, hey, bonding between would be enemies! XD I have to point out, for the purposes of this story, Lucius Malfoy was the only one who believed in the blood prejudice thing. Narcissa wasn't wanting to have anything to do with it, and Draco did it for show to impress his father. That's all the information I'm giving you, because Draco and his mother will explain it all later!**

**R&R kiddies!**

**~0riginalitys**


	5. Meeting Malfoy's Mother

"Hermione, dear, welcome!" Narcissa Malfoy beamed as her son bought her guest into the parlour. She stood quickly, making her way over to shake hands with the young mother. "Oh, this must be Felicity. She's positively gorgeous! Oh, and she has your eyes, too! And your curls! My, my, she's a brilliant little thing. Aren't you, darling?" Draco tried hard not to laugh at his mother as she made goo-goo noises at Hermione's daughter.

"Mummy…" Felicity cowered back into her mother's arms. "The funny wady is scawing me."

"It's alright, honey. This is the child-care lady. She won't hurt you." Hermione tried to soothe her own nerves as she reassured her daughter. She didn't need to try hard, though, because as soon as the words 'child-care lady' were out of her mouth, Felicity leaned forward, attempting to grab hold of Narcissa. Hermione quickly pulled her back, muttering an apology, but the Lady Malfoy just continued to smile.

"That's quite alright, dear. Is it alright if I hold her?"

"Oh, uh, yes, that's fine." Hermione replied nervously. Draco chuckled from where he was leaning against the door frame.

"Draco!" his mother admonished, taking the toddler from Hermione's arms. "Be polite!"

Hermione turned and gave him a look that said 'yeah, Draco, be polite' and he simply scowled in return.

"Draco!" his mother scolded again.

"Sorry, mother," he mumbled. Narcissa scowled. "I'm sorry, alright?" he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

Narcissa smiled as Hermione let out a small giggle, and turned to her son. "Go check with the elves; see if they can send us up some tea before we have lunch. You will be joining us for the meal, won't you?"

Draco couldn't ignore the slight plea in his mother's voice, and when he turned to Hermione, it was blatantly obvious that she wanted him there as well. For what reason, he didn't know. "Alright, fine!" he said, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "I'll see you ladies later." And with that, he turned and left the room. Both Narcissa and Hermione chuckled.

"So, dear, do tell me, does the father live with you?" Narcissa asked, gesturing for her to take a seat across from her in the parlour as she sat in her own seat. Hermione did so, folding her hands gently in her lap and shook her head.

"No, he, uh, well, he doesn't even know about Felicity at all, actually. He… left… before I found out I was pregnant."

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry. You mean to say you've been raising this dear little thing all by yourself?" Narcissa gently cupped Felicity's cheek as she spoke, smiling as the toddler grinned at her. "Didn't you have someone to help you?"

"Yes, I, uh, I wanted to get in contact with my parents, but, uh, they were… unavailable, and I couldn't contact my friends from where I was."

"Couldn't or didn't want to?" a voice came from behind Hermione, and she turned quickly in her seat to see Draco leaning, once again, against the door frame of the parlour.

"Couldn't," Hermione answered. "They didn't want me to talk to them, so they blocked their Floo's and sent all the owls back. I couldn't even contact them on my muggle phone." She tried to hide her smug look as his eyes widened slightly in shock

"Wassa muggle, mummy?" Felicity asked from Narcissa's lap.

"Someone like Billy," Hermione answered, turning back to face her daughter.

"Oh," Felicity dragged out the sound, the simple sentence made sense to the Granger's, while it confused the Malfoy's immensely. "Muggles no magical?"

"That's right, honey."

"Well, I can see she is well educated. Billy is a muggle friend of yours?" Narcissa asked Hermione, who shook her head.

"Billy is a muggle friend of Lissy's. His parents let us rent a room in their house while I found a flat to live in," she explained. "I live in a muggle apartment block in London."

"Oh, how lovely. Draco here lives in a muggle neighbourhood, don't you, dear? He prefers using the visitor's entrances… less soot that way." Narcissa chuckled as Draco entered the room, apparently becoming part of the conversation.

"I'm less recognisable in muggle London, and I prefer it that way. I'd hardly be able to get to work if I was famous among muggles too. It's bad enough at the Ministry as it is. The visitor's entrances are discreet, so people don't pay much attention to them."

"You work at the Ministry?"

"Head of the Department Of International Magical Cooperation, at your service," Draco bowed from where he stood at the end of the sofa she sat on and smiled as her lips parted in shock. Hermione quickly hid it with a smirk that rivalled his own, and he stared in shock at _his_ signature expression on her face.

"That's quite a feat, Malfoy. I'm impressed."

"Yes," he said, hiding behind a similar smirk and taking a seat beside her on the couch, so as not to intimidate her. "Well, I do live purely to impress you, Granger. I can now die a happy man."

Hermione, deciding it would be impolite to tell him to 'hurry up and get on with it, then' in front of his mother, turned to Narcissa and smiled. "So, do you do anything other than run the child-care program, or does that keep you occupied for most of the time? I must say, I didn't notice any little ones running around when I came in. But then, I've only been into two of the rooms."

"Oh, well, that's actually what I wanted to talk with you about. You see, we haven't had many people offer to let their children stay here, unfortunately, and one of our orders from the Ministry was to provide a service for the community. Deciding it would be best to get on the good side of parent's first, we, Draco and I, decided that it would be best to go into child-care. We have quite a lot of space here at the manor, and it does get quite lonely around here while Draco is at work," Narcissa smiled fondly at her son. "It was actually his idea to get more people around here. Draco truly does care about me, that I can assure you."

Hermione looked at Draco, who was lounging on the couch, and he rolled his eyes as she smirked.

"You can't use that against me in any way, Granger. Everyone already knows I'm a mummy's boy. There's nothing you can say." Draco smirked as Hermione's own faltered.

"Draco, do try to be polite. She is our guest, after all."

Draco rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"So, you were saying…?" Hermione prompted.

"Oh, yes, well," Narcissa began, shifting Felicity on her lap. The youngster was close to falling asleep in her arms. "We were actually hoping that, if we got you interested in our services, other people might start to follow suit. It will all be free of course – I've heard from numerous people that you're still searching for a job – so we won't charge you while you look for one, and you're more than welcome to stay here if you're unable to keep paying for your flat. I hope it's not too forward of me to ask, but how have you been taking care of yourself and your daughter all these years?"

"Oh, it's alright. I, uh, came into some money just after Lissy was born and, I, uh, used that to get myself settled down. I was in France for a few months doing… business, and then I moved to England to finish everything off, and… I just went from there. I've got enough money to last us to the end of this month, but by then I should have a job, so I'll be able to pay my rent and such."

"Oh, dear, you should have said! You're more than welcome to stay with us here if you need to!" Narcissa announced, beaming. "It would be so nice to have another woman around the house!"

Draco stared. "I'm… sorry?" he asked.

"You're not going to object to this, are you, Draco? You heard her, she's only got enough money to last her to the end the month, and that might not even last. We have plenty of spare rooms for her and her daughter to stay in until she finds a job. You could help her look for one at the Ministry, and it would be easier for the two of you to discuss it while you are living under one roof… as big as that roof may be."

"I-"

"It's quite alright, Mrs Malfoy. I wouldn't want to be a bother. I'm sure I'll find a job before the month ends."

"Hermione, dear, the month ends in a fortnight," Draco's mother reminded her. "If you've been searching for as long as I suspect you have, I don't think you'll get one soon. And you certainly wouldn't be a bother. We could go for days without seeing you in a house this big; with the exception, of course, of our weekly meals together. Oh, and please, call me Narcissa."

"Oh, well, uh, Narcissa," Hermione smiled as Narcissa did. Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm very grateful for your offer, truly, but Draco," the two locked eyes at her use of his first name, and he raised an eyebrow in question. "Obviously has an objection," she continued, turning back to Narcissa. "So I think it would be best if I stayed in my apartment, at least until the month is out. We've only just met, after all, and this is a little strange for me."

"Oh, well, I suppose your right. I am a little too forward thinking sometimes…" Narcissa allowed. Draco hid a laugh under a cough.

"Draco, dear, could I speak with you alone for a moment?"

"Certainly mother," he replied, standing up to help his mother to her feet. He picked up Felicity with a gentleness that neither Hermione, nor his own mother, had seen him use before and carefully moved to settle her against a cushion. Just as he was about to do so, however, Felicity awoke from her little nap and latched onto his shirt with her tiny fists.

"Daddy!"

Everyone's eyes widened in shock as the toddler yelled, holding tightly to Draco's shirt.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Oh, uh, I, what? Daddy? Oh the joys of three year olds! Again, I'm not one, I have no clue what they're like all the time, I'm going by experience and manipulating things to go with my story. I'm sorry, okay?**

**Anywho, R&R my loverly children.**

**~Originalitys**


	6. Scandalous Families

"I, uh, I – what?" Draco sputtered, staring down at the toddler in shock, still bent over the sofa. His mother made a strange noise, halfway between a chuckle and a snort, but quickly covered it with a cough.

Hermione stared in shock at her daughter and the man holding her before she stood quickly and gracelessly from her place on the sofa and made her way over to where her daughter was, pushing Draco gently on the shoulder so he stood up straight. She carefully pulled Felicity from his arms, afraid that he was going to drop her in his shock, and ran a hand over the top of her head, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"It's alright, baby," Hermione cooed. "Mummy's here."

Felicity struggled in her mother's arms, turning slightly to stare at Draco before reaching her arms out to him, clenching and unclenching her fists. "Daddy!" she squealed, half in excitement, half in fear. The occupants of the room stared at the tall blonde man, who, stared first at the toddler, then at the woman holding the infant. His icy stare made her shiver slightly and she cleared her throat nervously.

"Granger," said Draco, his voice dangerously low as he addressed her, stepping back slightly. "Why is your kid calling me daddy?"

"I-I don't know!" Hermione exclaimed, trying, unsuccessfully, to get her daughter to stop reaching for him. "Lissy, stop that!"

"Draco," his mother said calmly from beside him, having stood up when the toddler squealed. "Perhaps you should take Felicity for a moment."

"Lissy, honey, he's not your daddy," Hermione tried to tell her child, ignoring the conversation between the two other occupants of the room.

"Daddy! Daddy!" was all she yelled in response.

"Hermione, dear," Narcissa said. Hermione looked up at the older woman, confused. "Let her go to him."

Draco stared at his mother in shock, but she simply nodded at Hermione, who stared between her daughter and the man she was yelling for before sighing dejectedly. "Please don't drop her," she said, stepping closer to him.

Draco groaned slightly, seeing no way out of it, and reached up to take the toddler from Hermione's arms. "I won't," he promised.

Felicity attached herself to his shirt and he made a noise of protest as she snuggled closer to him, murmuring something that sounded like 'daddy' and falling asleep in his arms.

* * *

><p>"I have no idea what just happened." Hermione admitted, facing away from Draco as he sat on the couch beside her, Felicity still attached to him, her hands fisting his shirt as she slept. She wrung her hands in her lap nervously, shooting glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He groaned again as the toddler pulled herself closer to him, and mumbled something similar to 'stupid kid wrinkling my favourite shirt'.<p>

"Has she done something like this before? Called another adult mum or dad?" Narcissa asked Hermione from her place on the opposite sofa. She took a sip of her tea while she waited for her answer.

"No, never. This is the first time she's really been around someone else who has actually spoken to her though. Other than when we were shopping."

"Great," Draco groaned. "I'm the lucky one!"

"Perhaps," Narcissa said, shooting her son a glare. "When she wakes up, you can talk to her. Let her know my son is not her father." Draco grumbled and looked down at Felicity again.

"I assure you, I have every intention of doing that," Hermione replied with a small smile.

Narcissa chuckled, and then stood abruptly, but gracefully nonetheless. "I'm going to go and inform the house-elves that we will be taking lunch in the parlour today," she said after gaining two identical quizzical looks. "Felicity won't move from my son's arms, and I won't have you leaving without being fed properly, Hermione. It would not be polite." She gave her son a pointed look and with that, Narcissa left, her small heels clicking against the marble floor.

"Granger," Draco said after a moment's silence.

Hermione turned, finally, to look at him, and found he was staring at her, a different expression than the one she expected on his face. He looked almost… concerned. "Yes?" she asked when he didn't continue.

"I'm going to try and move Felicity and sit her on the couch. Do you – well, I'm wondering if there's any chance that you might be able to calm her down if I do, and I'm going to see if leaving the room helps at all. Is that alright?" Draco asked the last question heavily, annoyed that he had to ask permission to do something. And he had to ask _Hermione Granger _of all people.

"I – uh, yes. I mean, you're welcome to try," Hermione replied, giving him a small knowing - but still semi-sweet - smile.

Draco returned the smile, despite himself, and was just about to remove the child from his arms when, in a burst of green flames, Rita Skeeter strolled confidently into the parlour, via the Floo. She took one look at the three young figures on the couch, and then the sound of a loud flash and a click, followed by a small burst of smoke, interrupted the silence that had fallen over the parlour.

"Look at this lovely family!" the reporter declared to no one in particular. "So young, so gorgeous, so _scandalous_. I'm shocked you didn't tell me sooner, Draco! This will make a great story for my readers!"

"W-We're not-" Hermione began to protest, but a cry from Felicity cut her off. She turned quickly to see Draco holding a nearly-crying toddler just inches from his chest. He pulled Felicity back gently, so her head was resting on him again, and Hermione reached over to run a soothing hand through her hair.

"It's okay, Lissy, it's okay," her mother cooed.

"Daddy…" Felicity cried, fisting his shirt tighter.

Rita Skeeter cackled. "You're not what, Ms Granger? Or should I say _Mrs Malfoy?_"

"Skeeter, I'm warning you. Don't print that lie in your paper," Draco growled, glaring up at her.

"Oh, Draco, dear, I wouldn't _dream_of printing any lies in my paper."

The reporter grinned in what could only be described as a maniacal way, staring between the three figures on the couch; Hermione was running her hand across Felicity's hair in an attempt to calm her daughter and herself and Draco was rubbing the toddler's back with his thumbs absent-mindedly, trying to soothe his own anger. Rita snapped another picture and grinned again.

"Tell your mother I stopped by, would you? I'll come back later, when she's not entertaining," and with that, Rita Skeeter took a step back and disappeared in a rush of green flames. Draco groaned, causing Felicity to tighten her grip, which caused him to groan again.

"She's going to run the story," Hermione grumbled, glaring at the fireplace that Skeeter had just disappeared from. "I hate that woman."

"Me too, but she's not running that story. Not if I can help it." He looked down at his lap. "I need to get this kid off me."

"Ask her," Hermione said suddenly, turning back to face him.

"What?"

"Ask her if you can give her to me."

"I-"

"Just do it, Malfoy. If you want Skeeter to not run that story, ask my daughter if I can hold her, or if you can put her on the couch."

Draco stared apprehensively at the toddler in his arms before sighing. "Felicity?" he asked gently, giving her a small shake. "Lissy?" he tried when she didn't respond. "Lissy?"

Felicity looked up at him, a small smile on her lips, and Draco couldn't help but return it. "Lissy, I'm going to give you to mummy, alright? Is that okay?"

Hermione tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore his use of the word 'mummy' in reference to her, instead of 'your mummy' or even 'Granger'.

Felicity stifled a yawn behind her tiny fist and nodded. "Daddy come back?" she asked.

"Soon," he promised warily, handing the now-silent toddler to her mother. Draco was almost at the Floo when Hermione let out a small noise, similar to a sob. Draco paused, wondering whether or not she'd do it again.

"Oh, God, what if Ron sees the paper?"

Draco turned back to see Hermione huddled over her daughter almost protectively, leaning forward on the couch as a few tears fell from her eyes. The sight made something in Draco click, and he made a decision to try as hard as he could to prevent the story from being printed.

"Skeeter won't run that story, Granger. I'll make sure of it," Draco promised, slightly unsure as to his reasons behind it.

Hermione looked up at him, giving him a small smile, before turning back to her daughter.

"Lissy, see that man?" she asked, pointing at him. Felicity nodded. "That's not your daddy." Felicity made a small noise, almost in protest to the information. "No, Lissy, he's not your daddy. He's your… friend."

"Fwiend?" the toddler asked, staring between Draco and her mother, who both nodded, one more hesitantly than the other. Felicity's mouth broke into a large grin. "Fwiend! Fwiend play!"

"Later, Lissy," Hermione said. "Your friend has to go do an important job, and then he'll be back, okay?"

The toddler nodded, turning to Draco. "Sowwy."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"You not daddy. My called you daddy."

"Oh, uh, that – that's okay, Lissy," Draco said, ignoring the way Hermione obviously enjoyed his discomfort.

The toddler smiled up at him from his mother's lap, and he couldn't help but smile back. Hermione couldn't help it as a small smile graced her features.

"I'll, uh, be back soon."

"Please don't let her run that story," Hermione pleaded, just as he was about to disappear. He nodded. "It'll ruin us both if she does."

"I know," he said, and then he was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Oooh. Wow. Skeeter's in trouble now! :P Don't worry, I won't kill her... possibly. Review and let me know if I should, hey? ANYWAY. Just. yeah. What do you think? Were their reactions believable? I think that after the next chapter, I'm going to cut forward a week and get started on the whole 'thing' that I've got planned. Let me know - should Skeeter run the story, or should she not? Cause I've got ideas for both. MAYBE I SHOULD DO ALTERNATIVE STORIES. O_o ooh. XD I'd have to do that _after _I finished the actual one though, cause that'd just confuse me completely. Anyway, y'all gone let me know what chu's thinkin', yes? :P Quick lil favour to ask - you don't have to do it if you don't want to, this is just me being selfish - but if you know of anyone who likes Dramione stories, and you actually think mine is worth it, you could tell them about it. You don't _have _to, but you'd get a second imaginary pie if you did. Just sayin'.**

**Okay, now that I've got my selfish egotisticalness out of the way:**

**R&R&L lovelies. :D That's Read and Review and Love, in case you didn't know. :P**

**~Originalitys**


	7. Prints, Parlours and Plans

"Hermione, dear, where has Draco disappeared to?" Narcissa asked as she returned to the parlour and discovered Hermione alone, holding a sleeping Felicity, with no sign of her son.

"Oh, he, uh went to-"

"She ran the story," Draco said, appearing out of the blue – or, more correctly, out of the green – covered in soot, and what appeared to be blood. Everyone ignored him, however, as the words registered in Hermione's brain.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, suddenly on her feet, Felicity, who was now very awake, clutched tightly against her chest. "No…" she almost whimpered, her anger suddenly disappearing as she collapsed back onto a cushion, tears falling down her face. "No, she can't…"

"Who ran what story, dear? What happened?" Narcissa asked, looking between the two of them. Neither Draco nor Hermione were sure who she was referring to, but since Hermione was in near-hysterics, Draco answered.

"Skeeter. She came while you were with the house-elves, took a few photos, picked up on the similarities between Lissy and me, and heard her call me daddy… now she's running a story in the Prophet about our secret family."

"Oh, dear, it can't be that bad," Narcissa acknowledged, sitting down beside Hermione and running a soothing hand across her shoulders as she sobbed. "It's only a story. No harm, no foul. Right, Draco?"

Draco only stared at his mother. He wasn't sure what the consequences would be.

"Ron's going to see it. He's going to kill me," Hermione let out another choked sob and looked up at the woman before her. "Narcissa, he's going to think the story is true, and he's going to come after your son. Everyone knows you and Rita are friends, and he'll think you used that to your advantage to spite him… Oh, gods, he even saw us together, and Draco said that she looks more like-" Hermione's sobs worsened, cutting off the rest of her speech, and she held her daughter tighter against herself.

"Mummy! Don't cwy mummy!" Felicity herself started to cry as her mother became more and more distressed. Narcissa rubbed the toddlers head and turned to her son.

"Draco, dear, go tell Rita to come here immediately," his mother ordered.

Draco ran a nervous hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck while staring at the floor. "I, uh, I can't do that, mother. I've been… banned from the offices, so to speak. Temporarily, of course. Skeeter set her body-guards on me. That's why I… look like this."

Narcissa rolled her eyes, standing up. "Must I do everything myself?" she chuckled. "Stay with Hermione." She placed a hand on her son's shoulder and whispered in his ear. "Take Felicity before the woman hugs her to death."

"I-"

Draco's mother cut off his objections with a pointed look at him, then at the sobbing woman on the sofa, and stepped into the Floo, disappearing in a flash of green.

"I, uh… It's going to be alright," Draco said awkwardly.

Hermione continued to sob. Felicity made a noise in pain and shifted in her mother's arms, obviously uncomfortable. Draco moved forward cautiously, unused to anything less than a very calm woman, and knelt before her, deciding to release the child before he dealt with the sobbing woman in his mansion's parlour.

"Lissy, it's okay; don't worry, it's okay," Draco said, reaching up to rub her head gently, trying to calm down the child while he thought of a way to get her mother to let her go.

"Mummy…" the child whimpered, shifting again in pain.

"Granger," Draco tried. Hermione's grip on her daughter tightened and she let out another strangled sob. "Merlin, Granger, let her go."

When she responded with nothing but another sob, Draco placed his hands on Felicity's small waist, underneath her mother's arms, and gave a gentle tug. Hermione tightened her hold on the toddler, who let out a small whimper and a few tears slipped down her face.

"Granger, you're hurting Felicity," Draco said. "Let her go."

Had Draco not been where he was, with his firm grip on her, Felicity would have fallen to the ground. At the realisation that she was hurting her daughter, Hermione promptly loosened her grip, but she slackened her arms entirely and her daughter fell back into Draco's arms and she let out another choked sob when she realised what she'd done.

Draco used his seeker-fast reflexes to catch Felicity before she fell against him, and carefully settled her in his lap before looking up at the toddler's mother, who stared back at him in shock, tears streaming down her face. In her eyes, Draco saw regret, humiliation and something akin to gratitude as she stared back at him. He was silent as he watched her and she tried as hard as she could to stop crying. _No one should see my tears. Especially not this man._

"I-I-Oh, God, I'm so sorry," Hermione choked out, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes to stop her tears. She looked up, reaching out to wipe the tears her daughter's face with one hand while wiping her own tears with her opposite hand. "I just- I- if he sees that story, he's going to- I-"

"Calm down, Granger," Draco ordered, his voice gentler than usual. "My mother will sort everything out." He silently hoped it was true.

"Bu-"

Hermione's protest was cut off as she noticed two owls fly through an open window in the parlour and landed on the coffee table behind Draco, who turned to see one large grey owl, which was fumbling to stand up because it had fallen down upon landing, holding a letter in its beak and another white barn owl, that was flapping it's wings impatiently, that had a large mound of paper beneath its claws, staring at him.

He gently moved Felicity to the ground beside him and reached up to take the letter from the older owl's beak. It nipped at his fingers once before flying back out the window, nearly slamming into it in the process.

"It's for you," Draco said, staring at the envelope with a confused expression, turning to Hermione as he read the name on the front of the envelope. He looked up at her and held it out. Hermione didn't look at him, instead choosing to stare out the window with a vacant expression. "I know," she replied. "That was Errol; Ron's family's owl."

"Granger," he said, gently poking her knee with the corner of the envelope. Had the situation been different, the two would have laughed, but neither did as Draco spoke. "Read it. It could be important. It might not be from Weasley."

Hermione shook her head gently, quietly laughing at herself for getting distracted, turned her gaze from the window, and took the letter from Draco's outstretched hand.

She stared at her name on the front of the envelope for a minute before turning it over and opening it. She pulled the lone piece of parchment from within it and took a deep breath before unfolding it.

_Hermione,_

_Have you read the_ Daily Prophet _yet? Skeeter has some weird theory that you and Malfoy are married, and that our daughter is actually his! Can you believe that, 'Mione? They even went so far as to make fake pictures of the two of you with Felicity! I don't know how they did it, but they're actually pretty good. You're even smiling at the camera! I still don't believe it though, and I want to talk to you. _

Hermione made a small noise, almost a whimper, which made Draco turn his attention from Felicity to look up at her with a slightly confused expression. She continued reading silently anyway, ignoring him. He turned back to the toddler, slightly annoyed, while Hermione continued to read the letter from Ron.

_I'll be at your flat tonight at five, and we can discuss this properly. I want you to come live with me at the Burrow. I don't want you out there were people like Malfoy can manipulate you into doing things._

She stared at the paper for a minute, reading over the few sentences to be sure she read them right, before continuing.

_I know he must have used some kind of charm on you to get you to go with him, and to make you threaten me. I don't know what he hopes to gain from this, but Malfoy can't be trusted. I don't know where you two went today, but I know he's just using you. He probably wants our daughter for one of his sick Death Eater plans. You can't let him do that 'Mione. I'm going to help you out. I'll see you later._

_Ron_

"Granger?" Draco asked. She continued to stare at the piece of paper in her hands, before letting it fall to the ground as her hands went limp. "Who was it from?" When he got no response, he tried another question, refraining from picking up the letter himself, in case it was personal. "What did it say?"

"He wants me to live at the Burrow," Hermione whimpered, wiping the tears from her eyes. _Dammit, Hermione, get a grip. You can't keep crying like this_, she scolded herself harshly.

At Draco's confused look, she smiled momentarily, but it quickly vanished when she remembered the letter, and the fact that he wouldn't know the name of Ron's house.

"A-at the Weasley's house," she explained. "Ron wants me to live there with him a-and his family. He-he's convinced th-that you're out t-to get Lissy f-for s-s-some e-evil p-plan," she stuttered, still crying. "He-he's coming to my house tonight to-to talk about the paper."

She wiped her eyes, but the tears still fell, so she gave up and laid her hands, palms up, on her knees. Felicity reached up and grabbed hold of one silently. Hermione smiled down at her daughter, but when she looked at Draco, it disappeared almost instantly.

Draco, still feeling awkward, reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a handkerchief, mentally berating himself for not having thought of giving it to her earlier.

"Here," he said, placing it in her hand as gently as he could. "I haven't used it."

Shocked by his sympathy, Hermione did nothing but stare at the embroidered piece of fabric in her hand, and quickly shook her head as thoughts of it being laced with something entered her mind. _It's only that letter that's got you so worked up. He's waiting for you to do something. Wipe your eyes, at least_, she mentally ordered, then did so, refraining from blowing her nose on it as well. She doubted Draco would appreciate that.

"Thank you," she said. She looked down at her watch, realising that it was nearly four in the afternoon. _How did I manage to spend almost four hours here without realising? We must have spoken for longer than I thought…_ "Oh, dammit, I have to go. He's going to be there soon and I want to take Lissy somewhere else before he arrives." Hermione was a few seconds away from standing when Draco reached up, ignoring his sensibility for a few seconds, and placed a hand on her knee. "Wait," he said. He waited until she stopped moving to stand and help her to her feet. She was about to bend down to pick up her daughter when he stopped her.

"Wait," he repeated, reaching down to pull Felicity, who was still on the ground, into his arms. "Where are you going to take her?"

"I-I don't know. I'm – I'll think of somewhere," Hermione replied, taking Felicity from his arms and positioning her on her hip. "I don't think it'd be safe to have her there while he-"

Blaming it on a temporary loss of sanity, and going by what he thought his mother would say, Draco interrupted her quickly. "You're right, it wouldn't be. Maybe you should leave her here, at least until Weasley leaves."

* * *

><p>Hermione just stared at him. Draco Malfoy wasn't supposed to offer help. Sure, he'd changed since they were in school – everyone had – but he was still the arrogant, self-obsessed man that had skipped their last year, if the stories were anything to go by. Yet here he was, offering Hermione Granger a place to hide her daughter while she spoke to a man who she so obviously feared, though no one other than her knew the reason why.<p>

"I don't – I mean, I-" Hermione began, slightly apprehensive.

"Granger," Draco cut her off quickly. "Would you rather spend what little time you have calling up the few people who actually want you to talk to them to ask a favour, with a high chance of being rejected, or would you rather just leave your daughter here with me, where you _know_ she'll be safe? Just set aside whatever hatred you have for me and realise that I would never, in my life, harm a child, no matter who her mother was."

"I – I don't know. Is – will that be okay with your mother? She – she's going to be gone a while if she has to convince Skeeter that it's not a real story, and I don't know if she'd appreciate-"

"She practically invited you to live with us, Granger. I think that's a pretty obvious sign that she wouldn't mind having Felicity here as well," Draco said, cutting her off again. He gave a small chuckle as Hermione remembered, and quirked an eyebrow as she stared at him, slightly less nervous about the situation than before.

"If – If Ron tries anything, can I-"

"Granger, if that weasel so much as thinks of touching you without your permission, come straight here, alright?"

Hermione, a bit perplexed by Draco's sudden slightly-protective edge, stared at him with a faintly raised eyebrow. Seeing this, Draco quickly spoke up to defend his outburst.

"You don't want your daughter to have to have me as a stand-in parent, do you? If he tries anything, come straight here; make sure that doesn't happen."

Hermione nodded, not bothering to look into it further. _It's Draco Malfoy, what other reason could he have for saying something like that? You're doing this to protect your daughter. Speak to Ron before he tries to control your life. Felicity will be safe here; they're starting a child-care centre anyway, and you know you'll have to send her here for that eventually. They already offered, so you might as well take it. Just say yes already; accept it._

Draco watched as Hermione stood before him, obviously thinking hard about something.

"Okay," she said finally. "I'll try not to take too long. Are you sure you'll be okay with her here? She's kind of a handful."

Draco let out a sound, similar to a laugh, and studied the toddler in Hermione's arms. "I wouldn't expect any less from a Granger," he said, reaching out to run his fingers through her short hair. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he thought Hermione's daughter was cute – she had all of her mother's best features, and, combined with that of her father's – whoever that might have been – would make her, one day, into a very beautiful woman.

"She'll be fine, I promise," he said. "You won't be gone long anyway."

"Yes, well… I guess I'll… see you… later. I don't know how you'll contact me if something goes wrong but-" Hermione was cut off by Draco as he reached forward to take Felicity from her arms. The toddler went willingly and attached herself to his shirt once again.

"Nothing will. Merlin, Granger, you worry more about things going wrong here than you do about things going wrong with you and the weasel," he said, holding back a laugh.

Hermione scowled at him, but soon smiled, and reached to pull a portkey from her pocket. She was just about to leave before she thought of something.

"Oh, uh, Draco?" she asked, momentarily forgetting her usual name-calling.

"Yes?" he replied, suddenly very conscious of the child in his arms.

"Tell your mum thanks… for everything."

All Draco could do was nod, because, within seconds, Hermione Granger was gone from his parlour, as if she'd never been there at all.

* * *

><p><strong>An: I took a while with this one, and I'm sorry. I'll try and update faster, but I got stuck on logistics for this one. Nearly completely forgot about Lissy... oops.**

**So, to answer some reviews:**

**Miss Salazar Quidditch Star : That's a really good idea, but I'll have to put it in a different story, because this one is a little too complex for that, but it's a lovely idea. As for Draco being Lissy's father - unfortunately, no. That's not a spoiler, because I think that would ruin my story if he were. Sorry if you were hoping for that, but it's not gonna happen in this story. Sorry, love.**

** You know who: Well, if I told you that, I'd have to kill you. Just kidding... or am I? Ron's not drunk, by the way. I've found that the characters have changed a lot since the war, and so have events, mind you, but foul language is a part of most people's vocabulary, and Ronald Billius Weasley is no exception. Besides, I find that using language helps develop the character more - if they swear a lot, they're more prone to anger, like a certain Weasley, whereas if they swear only when under stressful or otherwise demanding situations, then they're more prone to logical, calm thoughts and actions, ****like a Granger, for instance****. It's just a theory, but I like to think it works.**

**As for the rest of you (and the two above, as well) you are all very very sweet, and I'm glad you like my story.**

**R&R&L lovelies.**

**~Originalitys**


	8. Mysterious Meetings

"Narcissa Malfoy. I'm here to see Rita Skeeter, please. It's very important."

Narcissa stood at the front entrance to the Daily Prophet, feeling slightly annoyed that she didn't have the influence she used to have. Sure, people still held the slight fear of her that they'd always had before the war, but this fear was due to fear of what they'd become involved with – not because of their wealth and power over them.

"She's in a meeting. You'll have to wait," the woman behind the counter replied, as if she'd been saying it all day, not looking up from the copy of Witch Weekly in her hands.

"It's very important," Narcissa repeated, attempting to stay calm. "It concerns the copy of the paper that was just sent out." When she received no response, she leant forward slightly. "I need to see her immediately."

"You can see her when she gets out of her meeting, Mrs…" the woman trailed off, almost in question, as she couldn't remember what the lady's name was. She looked up to see if she recognised her and immediately regretted her ignorance. "Malfoy," she finished.

"Look," Narcissa sighed exasperatedly. "I know she's in a meeting, but she has printed a lie in her paper that endangers the well-being of my family and friends, I would appreciate it if you could postpone the meeting for a few minutes while I talk to her."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mrs Malfoy. She's meeting with a very important person, and cannot be disturbed. I apologise, and I'm sure she's very sorry too."

"Don't apologise, just go in there and do something. She's a friend of mine, she knows me well. She'll let me in."

The receptionist looked briefly at the watch on her wrist before sighing. "She'll be finished in about ten minutes, Mrs Malfoy. The best I can do is let her know that you're here. The rest, I can only guess at."

"Well," Narcissa leaned forward to see the woman's name badge. "Melanie, you had better get in there and let her know that I am here, or else you'll have to answer to my son; and from the look on your face, you know how he can be when he loses his temper. I remind you, this is not a threat, merely a warning. My son won't let a ban from the premises stop him from making his point known."

The receptionist quickly scrambled to her feet, recalling how the younger Malfoy had appeared earlier that day and practically torn apart the entire building in his anger, and knocked gently on the door of Rita Skeeter's office once she arrived there. She knew the meeting that she had with her 'client' at the moment was an important one – it was a lead on a story she'd been working on for months – and she was under strict orders not to enter her office until Rita herself said it was allowed… but something told her that Narcissa Malfoy would not take no for an answer; and she knew her son definitely wouldn't.

"Mrs Skeeter," she said when the reporter opened her door, looking excited, yet annoyed. "Narcissa Malfoy is here to see you, concerning the paper printed earlier today. She says it's important."

"Apologise and let her know I'll be there soon," was all she got as an answer before the door was slammed in her face.

"Right…" the receptionist muttered, turning to walk back to her desk. "I'll… do that."

"Well?" Narcissa asked impatiently as the receptionist returned.

"She apologises for not being here to talk to you, but she has assured me she will be out to see you as soon as she can. I'm sorry Mrs Malfoy; I've done all I can do."

"Right, well, thank you, Melanie. I'll wait here for her, shall I?"

"Yes, ma'am… I'll come and get you when she can see you."

* * *

><p><strong>An: I'm sorry for the wait, loves. It's only a short chapter and I apologize for that too - busy with stuff and such. This is supposed to give you a little bit of insight into Rita Skeeter's idiocy, I suppose. The meeting with the random person is important for the story and I'm not telling you who it is until later. I _will _however, tell you that... I'm hoping to update on a regular basis from now on... say... three-ish days between chapters? I don't have a beta, so I have to do the double-checking myself... so yeah.**

**R&R&L sweeties!**

**~Originalitys**


	9. Play time with Draco

"Where mummy go?" Felicity asked a minute after Hermione disappeared, her curiosity similar to her mother's. Draco shook his head of his thoughts, moving his gaze from the empty space before him to the young girl that was still in his arms.

"She went home," he said. "She'll be back here soon though, don't worry."

Seemingly satisfied by his answer, Felicity looked up at him expectantly. "We play now?"

Draco's expression suddenly turned uneasy. "Uh… what do you want to play?" he tried a smile and looked down at her while he waited for her answer.

The toddler made a face, almost in thought, and then smiled suddenly. "Dwess ups!"

Draco's face immediately fell. "Uh…"

"Pwease?"

"I suppose we can-"

Before Draco could finish his sentence, however, Felicity let out a loud squeal of excitement and began to jump slightly in his arms.

"Only if you stop moving though!" he protested, trying to keep hold of her.

Felicity paused. "Otay mister."

Draco attempted to hold back another smile while he gently settled the young girl on the sofa nearby.

"Ziggy!" he called, trying not to frighten Felicity. His attempts were useless, though, as a house elf appeared suddenly right beside him with a 'pop' and the youngest person in the room promptly screamed, using her little hands to cover her eyes. "Fu-"

"Master called for Ziggy?" Ziggy interrupted quickly, looking warily at the cowering figure on the couch. "What can Ziggy do for Master?"

Quickly shaking his previous thought from his head, Draco looked down at the small elf before him. "Ziggy, this is Felicity," he gestured to the toddler, who was peeking out from behind her fingers, warily eyeing the house-elf before her. "Felicity wants to play dress up and I'm not sure I have anything that she could dress up with… so I'd like you to go and find some old clothes in the storage rooms. Anything small will do, just nothing sharp or dangerous, alright? I want you to call up another few elves from the kitchens and all of you will entertain Felicity, at least until I come back. Is that-?"

"Mister pway dwess up too!" Felicity interrupted. She seem to have caught on to the conversation slightly; or at least enough to tell that Draco wasn't going to stay.

Draco looked from the house elf to the toddler and made a face. "Uh…"

"Pwease, mister? You pwomised!"

Draco, suddenly finding it difficult to deny the child because of the adorable pout she was sporting, sighed. "I – well, I guess I can-"

Cutting him off, once again, Felicity let out a squeal and hoisted herself up to jump from the sofa and onto his leg, resting her head against his hip as she held on to his pants as if her life depended on it.

Draco immediately stiffened, scared for Felicity, but also surprised by the fact that he'd been surprised. Nothing ever shocked or surprised Draco Malfoy; nothing. But somehow, the toddler that was currently being removed from his leg by an equally scared house-elf had shocked him to the point where he could do nothing but stare at the place where she had once been. He continued to stare at the sofa, only the sound of Ziggy's shrill voice outing him from his blank unresponsive state.

"Ziggy will collect the clothing for Master Draco. Ziggy will also get the other house elves to play with the young child. Will Master take young child now?"

Draco stared at the house elf for a moment before nodding, leaning down to take the infant while he spoke. "Get one of the other elves – one that's not playing games with Felicity – to prepare lunch for us. Make sure they get juice and something soft to eat for Felicity. Scrambled eggs, perhaps?" Draco addressed the last question to Felicity, and nodded when he saw her smile at the mention of eggs, turning to Ziggy once more. "Scrambled eggs it is."

"Yes, Ziggy will do so right away, Master Draco. Ziggy will be back soon, sir," and with a small pop, Ziggy was gone.

"Ziggy talk funny," Felicity said as soon as the house elf was gone.

Draco laughed, placing her gently on the couch, and took a seat beside her. He had barely finished making himself comfortable when she crawled over to him and sat on his lap, facing him. He reached up and held her gently by the waist when she wobbled, so she didn't fall off and hurt herself.

"Was your name?" she asked, smiling. "My name Fewicity, but my not knows who you is."

"I'm Draco," Draco replied.

"Dwaco…" the toddler said, as if testing the way the name sounded on her lips. "Tha's a funny name. Why you called Dwaco? Does mean something spe-" Felicity paused, her face turning to one of determination as she struggled to pronounce a word. "Spe- spe- shall. Spe-shall. Does yours name mean something spe-shall?"

"My name means dragon… I'm named after a constellation." At Felicity's confused look, he smirked. "A picture in the stars; they make the shape of a dragon – Draco was a famous dragon that guarded the golden apples for a woman named Hera, who was very, very important - and that's what my father wanted to name me after."

"My name means hap-ness," Felicity stated proudly, smiling up at him. "Mummy say tha's wha' my makes her."

Draco stared at the young girl before him while she spoke. She was different to what he'd expected. For starters, while she looked a lot like her mother in the sense that she had very round, smooth features, her pale hair changed her look completely; you almost couldn't tell she was a Granger. She also seemed to understand so much, but she was only very young, and this baffled him. Must have got that know-it-all gene from the original Granger, he reasoned.

With a small 'pop', Ziggy returned and a few seconds later three more 'pops' could be heard, and there were four house elves – three of which holding piles of clothes, one holding a tray of food – standing on the opposite side of the coffee table.

"Ziggy has brought Master Draco the clothing for the young child. Ziggy has also had Tipsy prepare scrambled eggs for sir and young mistress," Ziggy announced.

"Thank you, Ziggy. Tipsy, set the eggs on the table, then go back to… whatever it is you were doing before you made the eggs," Draco said.

"Yes, sir," Tipsy said, stepping forward to place the tray on the coffee table. "Tipsy will collect the dishes when sir is done." And with another pop, Tipsy disappeared.

"Felicity," Draco looked down at her. "Do you want to eat or play first?"

"Mummy always makes my eats first," she said. "Mummy says play time be like dessert – that happen after dinner times."

Draco smiled deviously. "Well, mummy's not here… so how about we have dessert first?"

Felicity's smile grew wider and she began to bounce excitedly on Draco's knees.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Okay, so the reason this one took so long was because I was going to put this bit in, and then the Hermione/Ron bit at her apartment, but I decided against it because I'm hoping to lengthen that part with a little bit of INFORMATION YAY! XD Anyway, you'll have to make do with this one, then you'll have yourself a long chapter with _some _information on Hermy-owny's past. Pointing out, around about now in the story is four years after the Second Wizarding War, a'ight? The epilogue thing didn't happen, yadda yadda yadda, this is an entirely new thing, and I should have pointed that out before I started writing all these other chapters. LAWL. Oops. Yeah. NEXT CHAPTER IN A FEW DAYS, RON/HERMIONE TALKING. NO MORE INFO FOR YOU.**

**R&R&L lovelies, you know I like it when you do! :P**

**~Originalitys**


	10. Ronald Bilius Weasley

_There would be no passion in this world if we never had to fight for what we love._

Hermione, as she stood fidgeting in her kitchen, recalled the quote she'd read in a book years before. At the time, she'd only barely understood it – she'd been on the run for months, and she'd found a small book from her childhood in her bag with this quote on the first page – and her first thought had been of fighting Voldemort for the sake of her friends and her family. She understood she had to help defeat him so that the people she loved could live. Now, it held a different meaning. It was still the same concept, really – fighting for what you loved, for what you had a passion for – but it was different when the person you loved was your own flesh and blood, and you were fighting the person you used to fight _for._ Her thoughts quickly changed to Felicity, who was still at Malfoy Manor, and what she would do if she ever lost her. She prayed to Merlin that Malfoy was at least treating her nicely.

A frantic knock on the front door of her apartment pulled her from her thoughts, and she immediately ran for it, expecting the worst. However, when she pulled open the door – nearly hitting her in the face while she did so – wand drawn and at the ready, a very shocked Ron Weasley greeted her. He immediately raised his hands in surrender.

"Oh," she said, lowering her wand only slightly. "It's you."

Ron didn't respond, instead pushing past her and looking into the other rooms joining to the entrance hall. "Where is he?" he asked, turning around in the centre of Hermione's living room to face her where she stood, wand still clenched tightly in her hand, watching him.

"Where's _who_?"

"Malfoy," he said, as if it were obvious. "Where is he?"

"He's at his own house," Hermione replied. "At least, I'd guess that's where he is," she added hastily. It would do no good for him to know she had been at the Manor recently.

This seemed to satisfy Ron, however, so his expression relaxed to one of combined fear and annoyance to one of curiosity and something else Hermione couldn't name. "Where's Felicity?"

"She's with-" she paused momentarily, almost saying 'Malfoy', but instead finishing with something akin to the truth. "-her babysitter."

"Oh. Okay. Well, let's go pick her up, then." Ron began walking towards her, but she pulled her wand up and pointed it at him until he backed away.

"Ron, I'm not going with you." Hermione told him.

"You have to – she should be with her family, 'Mione."

"I don't have to do anything, Ron. Felicity and I are happy as we are… or at least, as we _were _before Skeeter showed up."

Ron stared at her, thinking. "Hermione, Harry and Ginny want you to come back. Harry can talk to Skeeter for you. She listens to him – you know she does."

Hermione did, in fact, know that Rita Skeeter listened to Harry. After the war, Skeeter had hung off every word he said and was always on his side for stories. For a while, she printed nothing but the truth in her papers, but apparently that had changed, since she had found something good to gossip about. And that 'something good' just happened to be Hermione and her return to England with a father-less daughter. Fatherless until now, that is.

"She's not going to listen to him, Ron. She wouldn't even listen to Malfoy, and his mother is a close friend of hers."

"But if he really was the parent, he'd want to keep it hidden because you two are enemies. Harry can tell them that I'm really her dad, and everything will be fine. You, me and Felicity can go back to The Burrow and everything will be fine. Mum can help you look after her while you're at home. It'll be just like we wanted when we were back in school."

"I'm sorry, Ron… it can't be like that anymore."

"Come on, Hermione. Let her stay with us."

Hermione glared at him. Before Ron could even blink, Hermione had her wand shoved against his throat threateningly, her gaze piercing, but calm as ever.

"Wh- what the hell are you doing?" Ron stuttered.

"Felicity goes where I go, and we're not going anywhere," Hermione replied sternly.

"You will. Come on, we have to go get Feli-"

"We're not going, Ronald!" Hermione's temper, though it was practically non-existent before, flared. She pushed harder with her wand and glared. "Felicity is _my _daughter, alright? She's not yours. It's not even _possible _for her to be yours."

"What do you mean by that?" Ron asked, taking a step back.

"She's three, Ron. You and I slept together _once _four and a half years ago. She's not yours, and she never bloody will be." Hermione advanced on him furiously.

Ron stared. If he was surprised at her swearing he didn't say anything about it, though her saying anything less than appropriate was a rarity. "S-so who's the father?"

Hermione stayed silent.

"It's Malfoy, isn't it? I can't forget the way you were looking at him after the war, like you were glad he was alive… and then again, in Diagon Alley, you were giving him that-that look, that just makes it clear you're in love; you were looking at him like you were seeing him for the first time in years."

"That's because I-" Hermione tried to cut in.

"Don't lie to me, Hermione! I've had enough of your lies! You lied to me during the war - even _after _the war - and then you bloody ran off to find your parents and disappeared for years, no contact, nothing! Harry and Ginny were so worried, mum was hysterical and I-" he cut himself off and his expression softened. "Don't lie to me, Hermione. Tell me the truth." Hermione's anger faded and she dropped her arm, looking down.

"I tried to, Ron. I tried to contact you after Lissy was born, but I couldn't. None of you would _let _me. You kicked me out of your lives, so I let you do it. I didn't want to, but I had to. So now you have to live with that. You think I wanted to lie to you? I _had _to, Ron. I had to protect Lissy."

"I could have helped you. We all could have. You didn't have to leave us."

"I've barely been back in the public eye for a _day _and everyone already knows about Hermione Granger's hidden child! Can you imagine what it would be like for me and her if I'd stayed? They'd think she was yours, or even Harry's, and when they found out she was blonde, the world would have a fit! They'd follow us everywhere and she'd grow up not knowing what it was like to live a normal life! I wanted to give her that, and you gave me ample opportunity! So I guess I should thank you all for kicking me out of your life." Hermione took a deep breath and looked down; her hand was clenched around her wand so tightly her knuckles were white, and attempted to soften her expression. She didn't dare mention that, had she stayed, it would have been better for everyone then… but not after all she'd been through. She sighed and looked up at him.

"I could have helped you," he said again, meeting her gaze.

"No, Ron, you couldn't."

"Yes, I-"

"Just forget it Ron! You couldn't have helped, and you won't help me now unless you leave me alone! It's bad enough with Skeeter already, if she finds out the 'Golden Trio' is back on speaking terms, living with a child that their childhood rival fathered, everything will get worse and Lissy's life will be over!"

"So he is the father?" Ron asked.

Hermione glared. _How can that be the only thing he picked up from all the yelling I've done?_ "Were you even listening to me, Ronald?"

"Yeah, you said 'living with a child that their childhood rival fathered'. Not _supposedly_ fathered, but actually fathered. You can tell me if he's really-"

Hermione groaned. "Go, Ron."

"Huh?"

"Go! Get out; go tell Harry and Ginny and Molly and everyone that I'm fine and I'm safe and that I'll see them eventually. Keep doing what you're doing with your life and pretend I'm not back. I'll be leaving soon anyway." Hermione gestured in the general direction of the door with her wand, holding the bridge of her nose gently between her thumb and forefinger. She felt, rather than saw, him move past her, but when a hand suddenly fell on her shoulder, she gasped and looked up, quickly stepping back.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione. But I'd never hurt you, or Lissy, I swear. We didn't want to give up on you but you gave us no choice." Ron began to walk towards the door when she spoke.

"I gave you a chance, Ron, to let me back. I gave everyone that chance. No one risked it, and now you all have to pay for it… and I do too. My whole family does."

Ron stopped and turned back to face her, his hand on the open door frame. "But we are your family, Hermione. We always will be." And with that, Ronald Weasley left, closing the door behind him as he went. Hermione stared after him for a moment and sighed.

"Not anymore, Ron," she whispered to the empty flat, and promptly collapsed to the floor.

Twenty minutes later, she pulled herself to her feet, sent off an owl of her own, and dragged herself to the shower to silently let out her tears after she received an owl from Ron.

_I'll make you see its right for her, 'Mione. She deserves to be with her family; with me… with us._

* * *

><p><strong>An: So... what do you think? I tried to make Ron angry, but I couldn't do much better than this... maybe in the future when I edit this, I'll make it better. Opinions?**

**R&R&L sweeties!**

**~Originalitys**


	11. Apartment 23

_Draco,_

_Richard Street Apartments, number 23; please don't bring Lissy._

_Hermione_

Almost an hour later, Draco stood staring at the piece of parchment in his hand, then at the young girl currently sitting on the floor in front of his fireplace – who was presently wearing one of his mother's old dresses, shrunken to fit her better, and trying to put a purple wig that he'd transfigured from a cushion onto one of the few house elves that were sitting nearby – and back to the paper. _What the hell has happened? What the bloody hell am I meant to do with Lissy while I'm-? _He stopped himself mid-thought, catching sight of a house elf with a bright blue wig on. _The house elves. Merlin, I should have thought of that straight away._

"Ziggy," he said, crumpling the letter in his fist and looking back at it. One of the house elves looked up at him with big green eyes, hidden behind a large pair of bright orange glasses and stood.

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"I have some business to attend to, so I'll need you to look after Felicity until I get back."

"Yes, Master Draco. Ziggy will look after the young child."

"Is you leaving, Mister Dwaco?" Felicity asked, catching the conversation. She looked up at him, her eyes shining a golden-brown in the light before a wig, similar to the one she had barely managed to get onto a house elf, fell into them. Her tiny fist pushed the wig back up and she frowned when he didn't respond. "Mister? Is you leaving?"

Draco blinked rapidly for a moment, shaking his head, before giving her a small smile and kneeling down in front of her. "I'm going to go get your mum," he said. "I'll be back soon, alright? You stay here with Ziggy, and I'll be back before you know it."

Felicity grinned back at him, but then her frown was back and she looked at him almost pityingly. "Mummy gone be mad at you."

He frowned. "Mad at me? Why?"

"Me not had foods; my played. Mummy's gone be mad."

"Well, she'll only be mad if she finds out… so we won't tell her, will we? It'll be our little secret, okay?"

Excited at the prospect of having her very own secret to keep, Felicity beamed and stared up at him happily, shouting "Otay!" with a small scream.

Draco chuckled. "Okay. Ziggy is going to look after you now, and when I get back, your mum will be here too. You can play dress up with her, then, if you want." He turned to Ziggy, standing up. "Ziggy, look after her; if I come back and she is harmed in any way, there'll be trouble… and not just from me. Do whatever she asks, but make sure it's _safe _first."

"Yes, sir, Master Draco; Ziggy will look after Young Mistress while Master is away, sir."

Draco nodded, moving out of the way, and stood at the end of the sofa. "Be good, Felicity… and don't tell your mum our secret when she gets back." Draco winked at the toddler before quickly apparating to an alley not far from where he knew Hermione's apartment to be.

* * *

><p>Draco knocked on the door of apartment 23, and then shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He had to hand it to muggles; their clothes were a lot more comfortable than wizard ones. When no one answered, he raised a curious eyebrow and knocked again, slightly louder. After once again receiving no answer, he sighed and pulled out his wand, whispering a quick <em>Alohamora <em>and pushing open the door. _Merlin, Granger, do you really trust the world that much?_ He gently closed it behind him and looked around at the small entrance to her apartment. There was a small table beneath a mirror on his right, covered in folders and pieces of parchment, as well as a vase of purple flowers that Draco couldn't name. On his left were a coat rack – which currently held one large tan coat – and a small pile of neatly arranged shoes. He continued through the hall, listening for any sign of Ron or, preferably, Hermione. He'd rather run into the bushy-haired know-it-all than the raging red headed Weasley any day. Hermione, at least, wasn't out to kill him; not yet, anyway.

"Granger?" he called, looking through the door into the kitchen. He noticed a small bowl of fruit on the bench top, surrounded by ink bottles and parchment, but no Hermione.

He moved through the kitchen, into the lounge room, and was surprised to find _more _parchment on coffee table that sat in the centre of the room.

"Granger?" he called again, walking towards the coffee table.

There were quills and bottles of ink on the table, beside crayons and a small empty juice box. He rounded the table, momentarily forgetting his search for Hermione, and picked up a coloured piece of paper from beneath what appeared to be a rejection letter from a muggle clothing store. On the piece of paper that had caught his eye was a drawing – obviously drawn by Felicity – of a woman in what appeared to be a red and white polka-dot dress – Hermione, he presumed – holding the hand of a little girl in a pink dress with a crown on her head – Felicity, if the blonde hair was anything to go by. The top right hand corner of the page was coloured in yellow to depict the sun, which was smiling down at the two people, and there was a thick green line underneath the figure's feet. A lone flower was drawn next to the Hermione figure, and even it had a smile drawn on it. He found himself smiling at the innocence and happiness behind the picture.

"She drew that yesterday," a voice from behind him said. "Because we went to the park on the weekend, and she liked my dress."

Draco stiffened at the voice and turned slowly to face Hermione, who was standing in a doorway behind him, wearing grey sweat pants and a red knitted jumper that must have been two sizes too big, hugging herself as she leaned against the frame of the door. Her wet hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few damp strands sticking to her face.

She pushed herself off the wall and stepped slowly towards him, still hugging herself tightly around the waist. "She wanted me to put it on the fridge, but I never got around to it."

Draco, who'd been silently watching her as she stopped an arm's length from him, tilted his head slightly. "Too busy being rejected by every store in muggle London to stick your daughter's picture to the fridge?" he asked. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he did something he'd never done before when speaking to Hermione Granger – he regretted them. The look on her face told him he should have said it differently, or not at all. He thought, most likely, that it was the latter.

"That was one of the reasons, yes," Hermione replied. "I've had to look through them all, and it has taken up a lot of time. I would have done it today, but I've been distracted by certain things and… certain people." She looked away from him then, down to the picture in his hands. He shifted uncomfortably and looked down at the picture himself.

"Right…" he said. After a pause, he looked up. "How _did_ the meeting with the weasel go?"

Instead of answering, she reached forward and took the drawing gently from his hands and settled herself on the couch nearby. She stared blankly at the drawing, one hand still holding tightly to the sweater at her waist.

"Granger?" Draco asked, watching her almost cautiously. "What happened?"

"He's not giving up," she whispered finally. She shook her head and spoke louder, so Draco could hear properly. "I told him he can't possibly be her father, but he wouldn't listen. He went on to say that you're the father, but he doesn't believe that either. He still wants me to live with him, and he's not going to give up. I don't know why he's doing this… he didn't even know about her until about a month ago when I was spotted at the park with Lissy by one of Ginny's friends and she told him." She took a deep breath and looked up at him with pleading, tear filled eyes, and let out a whimper. "I don't know what to do, Draco." She paused. "I'm so sorry."

Draco was again in a position that was decidedly uncomfortable for him. Figuring that talking would get her to see sense, he shoved his hands back in his pockets and took a hesitant step towards her. "Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything."

Hermione looked down again and sighed. "I've ruined everything. I should have just left and never come back… You didn't have to be a part of this. Your family's reputation is going to be ruined."

"My family's reputation was ruined a long time ago, Granger."

At Draco's tone, Hermione looked up at him, but he was looking away from her, out the open window nearby. She'd just opened her mouth to argue her point when he turned to look down at her, but not in the way she expected. Instead of looking down his nose at her like he used to, he was simply looking at her like she was; sitting down lower than his line of sight; nothing more, nothing less. He'd rid himself of what was left of his cold exterior, and appeared more human than Hermione had ever seen him as he spoke.

"This won't make anything worse, Hermione," he said, almost guessing her train of thought and turned back to look out the window as he continued. "My family hid one of the most malevolent wizards in history under our roof for a long time; we lived with Death Eaters and were Death Eaters ourselves; we had a house filled with Dark objects. We threatened people for reasons I didn't, and still don't, understand. Our reputation was ruined by us, and my mother and I have learned to accept that. People obeyed us out of fear, not respect." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Our reputation was in tatters when Voldemort was defeated, and we've worked to repair it, not in hopes of being back where we were in society, but so we could live comfortably, without people spitting in our faces wherever we went. Potter helped, I'll admit, but he can only do so much. This won't make anything worse," he said again, and turned back to her. "If anything, it'll make things better."

After a long pause, Hermione gingerly patted the cushion beside her and Draco walked slowly over and, after a moment's hesitation, sat next to her on the sofa.

"Won't it be suspicious though? I mean… everyone knows I'm a muggle born, and a friend of Harry's. You could just be using this to improve your image." Hermione asked, curling her fingers around her waist again. She had tears sliding down her face now, and when she realised, she reached up quickly to wipe them away. _Stop it, Hermione, _she chastised silently.

Draco realised, then, how she saw the article in the paper. Always the selfless one, Hermione was thinking only of how this would affect _him_ – showing him as a former Death Eater using a member of the Golden Trio to improve his family's tattered reputation – instead of how it would change the way people saw _her_ – the brains of the Golden Trio returning after years away from the Wizarding World only to have born a child that her childhood rival, former Death Eater, Draco Malfoy fathered.

"It doesn't matter what people think of me," he said. "Let them think what they will. Everything will be alright once Skeeter prints the article explaining everything she's said."

"Bu-"

"Granger," Draco interrupted, his cold demeanour returning – if only slightly. "Everything will be fine."

Hermione nodded, sensing the change, and looked back at the drawing resting on her knees.

"I shouldn't have been gone so long… I just didn't want Lissy to see me after… I was just..."

"I get it," Draco said truthfully. Having someone see you break down wasn't ideal, and if they meant a lot to you, it was considerably worse. "She's been having too much fun to worry about you, though."

Hermione chuckled. "She's easily distracted." She looked up at him. "She hasn't been too much trouble, has she?"

"Once she got over the shock of the house elves and noticed the clothes they had, she went mad with happiness… she scared the living daylights out of them when she squealed and started hugging them. I don't think the house elves have ever been more terrified, actually."

She couldn't help herself then; Hermione burst out laughing. Draco found himself smiling – really, honestly smiling – and a small laugh escaped his lips.

When Hermione finally calmed down, she was suddenly struck, once again, with the thought of losing Felicity. "What am I going to do?" she asked Draco.

Draco thought about it for a moment, but once he spoke, he realised he hadn't thought about it well enough. "Come live with me," he said. Then his eyes, like Hermione's, went wide. "I mean, at the Manor; with my mother and I. We can-"

He was cut off, however, as Hermione, despite herself, burst out laughing again.

"Alright, Malfoy," she said finally, smiling. "I'll come live with you." Then, with more giggles, she added, "I mean, at the Manor; with your mother and you. You can-" in a voice different from her own, before laughing again.

"Alright, Granger, I get it. No need to suffocate yourself," Draco deadpanned, crossing his arms. Hermione imitated him while she laughed, but soon stood up, offering her hand.

"Aww, come on, Malfoy, live a little," she said as he rejected her help and stood by himself. "Do you want me to go pack now, or should I wait until you tell your mother?"

Draco rolled his eyes as she laughed again, but couldn't help a smile as he became used to the sound. _What the hell?_ He looked at her, his expression a mix between curiosity and confusion, and her smile slowly faded. _How the hell did that happen?_

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing; do you need some help packing?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "I'll be done in a minute or two." She said, and, with one last confused look at Draco, she turned and headed to her bedroom to pack.

* * *

><p>Five minutes later, Hermione shrunk the last book and put it in her bag before shrinking the bag itself and shoving it in her handbag.<p>

"You know there's already a library at the Manor, don't you?" Draco asked, watching her as she tucked a curl behind her ear. He took a bite of the apple he'd stolen from her kitchen and pushed himself off the frame of the door.

Hermione gave a sarcastic 'ha ha' and closed the door to her bedroom, walking across the room to stand in front of him. "Sod off, Malfoy," she said, but her tone made it clear she was joking.

Draco placed a hand over his heart and faked hurt. "Ouch, Granger, that stung."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Oh, come on. Let's go."

Draco smiled back slightly and held up his arm, which Hermione jokingly linked her arm through, holding tight, and he apparated them to the Manor. Something went wrong, though, and they ended up just outside the gates, instead of in the parlour where he'd intended to take them. In his initial confusion, he didn't notice the cameras of the twenty or so reporters that stood just in front of him until Hermione's grip on his arm tightened and she pulled him back a step, ignoring the questions being called at them from every direction.

"Miss Granger! Miss Granger! What's it like now that the world knows about your engagement to Draco Malfoy?"

"Mister Malfoy, how is it that you convinced Miss Granger to be your wife?"

"Is being married to a former Death Eater as scary as the world thinks it is?"

"Where is your daughter? Why aren't you with her?"

"Would you be willing to do an interview for _Witch Weekly_?"

"Hermione! Malfoy!"

Over the voices of the reporters, once person's shout was heard clearly, and as a figure made their way to the front, Hermione didn't notice anything about them as she was forced, with Draco, against the gate, while the figure in front of them yelled above the crowd.

"Enough!"

The reporters were silent for a moment before they broke out with a new round of questions.

"Mister Potter! Do you have any comment on the relationship between Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger?"

"Is there anything you'd like to say about their daughter, Mister Potter?"

"Harry! Did you know anything about their family before you read about it in _The Daily Prophet _today? Do you have any comment on their relationship?"

Harry Potter ran a hand through his black hair and sighed. He really hated reporters.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Okie dokie, this chapter is long. DON'T GET MAD. YOU LOVED IT, I KNOW YOU DID. XD**

**Oooooh, Harry Potter's made an appearance. This is interesting. MORE STUFF LATER.**

**I realised just then that I uploaded this before the Ron/Hermione chapter. Oops. FIXING THAT NOW. Y'all won't see this for DAAAYS.**

**I'm just making a little announcement here - I know some of you will be a little confused by the sudden friendship thing between Hermione and Draco, but I did say before that they'd be OOC sometimes. I'm working on that, trust me. I'm even going over them in the HP books to get a better feel for them again. I'll work on having less dialogue too, cause there seems to be a LOT, and I don't want that. You guys have any opinions/thoughts on ways to better portray the characters/ pace the chapters? I'm definitely open to ideas, guys! Don't be afraid of me!**

**~Originalitys**


	12. Aurors and Reporters

"Potter, what the hell is going on?" Draco asked, leaning forward so he could be heard over the reporters that had 'made camp' out the front of Malfoy Manor. Hermione, who was still attached to his arm, much to the reporters' delight, stepped forward with him.

"They read Skeeter's story and decided to check it out. I was called here to control them because they're disrupting the public."

"What public? There's no one around for _miles!_" Hermione said, overhearing.

"Shh! If they know that, they'll never leave!" Draco whispered, seeming to have caught on to what Harry was saying.

"Mister Potter, any comments?" a reporter asked, stepping forward.

"Yes, I have a comment." Harry replied.

All the reporters went silent, waiting with anticipation for what he would say.

"If any of you are seen in this area again, you will have to face the Minister of Magic himself. You have five minutes to leave the grounds, or you will be taken directly to him by a group of Aurors awaiting my signal. That is all."

Infuriated, the reporters continued to take photos until they had only a minute to leave, then, in a flurry of small _pops_, Harry, Hermione and Draco were alone outside the gates.

Before Draco or Hermione could even sigh in relief, Harry had turned around with a pointed look at where their arms were joined together. Slowly, the let their arms fall.

"If you two are doing this for show, I want to know why _right now,_" Harry said.

With a questioning look at Hermione, Draco spoke. "We're not doing it for show, Potter."

"Then what the hell is happening?" Harry shouted. "First there's pictures in the paper, _real _pictures, that show you two with a child that looks incredibly similar to you, Malfoy, then you two suddenly show up _arm in arm _outside the gates of Malfoy Manor with great bloody smiles on your faces like you've been best friends for your whole bloody lives. If this isn't for show, then what the hell is it? Because I bloody well know you two hate each other."

"Did it ever occur to you, Potter, that it might just be coincidental?" Draco drawled.

"No, it didn't, _Malfoy, _because Hermione having a child with Malfoy hair isn't a very likely thing to happen."

"But it did," Draco replied, smug.

Harry sighed. Draco was right. "That still doesn't explain the sudden best-friendship between you two. And the photos… and this." He gestured briefly to the pair of them.

"We're not best friends," Hermione said at once. Draco nodded in agreement. "He's offered child care for Lissy and a place to stay while I find a job, and we were caught with her while we were discussing it when Skeeter showed up. She just assumed we were a family and she took some pictures. You know how she is, Harry. Remember the Tri-Wizard Tournaments?"

Harry nodded. He remembered. "What about this, though? What's with the smiles?"

"Believe it or not, Potter, but I actually have a sense of humour, and Granger apparently does too. I said something funny, we laughed, and I planned to apparate us into the Manor, but ended up out here for some reason."

"Why were you going to the Manor?" Harry asked.

"Merlin, you're slow." Draco, much to the shock of Harry, laughed. "Granger accepted my offer. She's going to live here until she finds a job."

"But you have your own apartment, don't you? Ron said he saw you today." Harry turned to Hermione, gobsmacked. "Didn't he see you there this afternoon?"

"He did." Hermione replied. "But… I'm not going to stay there anymore. It's not safe with – with all these reporters around." She wasn't lying, exactly, but she would have lost the argument if she'd been questioned on it; it would be safer to live by herself than with Draco when she was meant to be protesting the idea of her being in a relationship with him.

"Why not move in with Ron? I know he offered. He said you'd accepted and that he went over to help you pack." Harry paused. "So why didn't you go with him?"

"I never accepted to move in with him! He came over today because he was convinced I'd say yes. We fought, and he left, so Draco came to get me, we talked, and I packed up everything and we came here. We ended up out here instead of in there," Hermione pointed at the mansion behind her. "And we were bombarded with questions and, well, you know the rest."

Harry made a face at her use of Draco's first name, but didn't mention it when he spoke. "Alright, well… I guess we can talk later. I'm guessing… Lissy, was it?" Hermione nodded. "I'm guessing she's in there, so I'll call the others to take down the wards."

"You put wards up around my house?" Draco asked, angered slightly.

"We didn't think you'd appreciate reporters going right up to your front door," Harry replied. He turned, then, and shot red sparks into the air with his wand. Within seconds, five people appeared in front of him, their wands drawn. Among them was George Weasley, who, when he caught sight of Hermione, lowered his wand and ran to her, pulling her into a tight hug. Caught up in her own excitement, she hugged him back just as tightly.

"Merlin's beard, you're really back," George said, holding her out at arm's length before hugging her again. "I didn't think it was true," he whispered, so only she could hear. "I didn't believe any of it for a second. You're too good for him and you know it."

"Thanks, George," Hermione said, chuckling, as he finally let her go.

Someone behind George cleared his throat and they both looked to see Harry, attempting to hide a smile, trying to look annoyed.

"Sorry," George said, obviously not sorry at all. "What do you need us for, Harry? The reporters are gone, aren't they?" He glanced around quickly, and the other Aurors did too.

"We need to take down the wards so that Malfoy and Hermione can get back into the Manor," Harry said. George nodded and he, along with two others, suddenly all held brooms in their hands. They each paired up, Harry and George on one broom, the four other people in pairs on the other two brooms. They all floated a few feet in the air for a moment before Harry spoke. "Let's get this done quick so we can all go home," he said and they all took off, flying to the left and right, the second rider sitting sideways on the broom, muttering incantations as they took down their wards.

"I don't know why they bothered," Draco said, watching them. "My wards would have thrown anyone who wasn't permitted back ten feet if they tried to get past the gate."

"They're just doing their jobs," Hermione replied. "They probably wanted to make sure that nobody got hurt." She waved to George as he flew past them a second time, Harry removing the wards with a look of concentration on his face as they went.

"They're reporters," Draco argued, returning the glare one of the other Aurors sent his way with a wave of his fingers. "Who cares?"

Hermione chuckled. "You are such a git."

Draco rolled his eyes, but didn't respond. They stood in silence for the rest of their wait.

A few minutes later, the six Aurors landed in front of them, and Harry nodded at his teammates, telling them they were free to go, but George Weasley stepped forward and grabbed Hermione instead, before Draco could pull her back through the gate.

"Can I have a word?" he asked.

Hermione nodded, casting a sideways glance at Draco, who gave a slight confused nod of his head in case that's what she was asking, and walked with George for a while before he stopped and turned.

"You alright, 'Mione? You're quiet. I thought you'd be asking me all kinds of questions about the family and the shop by now."

Hermione gave him a smile. "I thought you were going to ask me about what I'm doing here with 'the ferret'," she laughed. "Which, I suspect, is what you're about to do."

"What _are _you doing here with the ferret?" he asked, grinning as she chuckled.

"Believe it or not, he's my new baby-sitter."

"I didn't think you needed a baby-sitter."

Hermione laughed. "Not for me, for Lissy. I take it Ron told you about her?"

"He may have mentioned it… With all the ranting he's done about that 'slimy, irritable ferret' I can't be sure," George said. "She's not his though, is she?"

Hermione could only guess he meant Draco, so she shook her head. "Skeeter was just assuming that I'd had a child with Malfoy, not that-"

George shook his head. "I know she's not Ferret's kid, 'Mione. I may be an idiot, but I'm not stupid." He winked. "She's not Ron's either, is she?"

"No, but he's certain that she is, even though he knows it's impossible."

"Ah, you know how he is. Must've been something in the genes, I reckon. Charlie and Bill got the beauty, the brawns _and _the brains, Perce got neither, Fred and I got everything, obviously, and Ron got nothing, except maybe the brawns, but they came a little later in life. Gin, well, sticking with the pattern there, she got everything too. Plus a nasty knack for casting Bat-bogey hexes; Weasley family tradition, there." George winked again and let out a laugh, which Hermione joined in on immediately, saying quietly 'Yeah, must be'.

"Look," George said, suddenly becoming serious. "Whatever happened between you and Ron is none of my business, and it's not anyone else's either, but you're more than welcome to come see me if you need to talk. I won't pretend to know why you left England all those years ago, but I'm sure as hell glad you're back, and if anyone gives you trouble over it, you tell me right away, and they'll get a little present from the back room, courtesy of Fred and me. He'll be absolutely ecstatic to hear you're really back. He didn't believe it either."

Hermione nodded and threw herself into his arms, smiling. "Thanks George. Honestly, thank you."

They walked back to where Harry and Draco stood, talking quietly about something, and she turned to George. "Tell Molly and Arthur I'm alright, will you? I think it might slip Ron's mind the next time he sees them… and say hi to Fred for me, okay?"

George nodded, gave her one last hug and smiled. "Remember, any trouble and you let me know. We got a new delivery a few days ago at the shop, and we're still trying to get the Wizarding Store Council on our side so we can sell them. Something about big explosions and sticky things not being a good combination, I think they said. We'll win though."

Before Hermione could chastise him, Harry walked over with a slightly triumphant expression. He gave George a look and nodded slightly. "Heading off now, George?"

"Yeah, catch you later, Harry," George said, gave Hermione a fleeting kiss on the cheek and disapparated. Hermione turned to Harry with a small smile on her face, but it faded when she took in his expression. He had a large frown on his face and was staring at her almost regretfully. She caught sight of Draco behind him, looking purposefully away from them.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, looking back at him. "Is something wrong?"

"'Mione, I want you to be careful, alright? There are still some suspicions about his family, even though I've spoken out for them. There are rumours going around, too."

"Harry, I'll be fine. I'm only staying until I find a job… which won't be too long, now that the Wizarding world knows I'm back. It's much harder to get a job with muggles, I assure you. Maybe I'll be able to get in with the Ministry."

"Want me to put in a good word for you?" Harry chuckled.

"If you want," Hermione laughed. She glanced back at Draco and saw him tapping his foot impatiently. "I should go… Malfoy looks like he wants to get inside."

Harry nodded, but before Hermione could walk away, he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"We missed you, 'Mione."

"I did too," she said, hugging him back.

"There's still some rogue Death Eaters around," Harry said suddenly, pulling away. "If you're hanging around Malfoy, I want you to be careful. Constant vigilance, remember?"

Hermione smiled. "Constant vigilance," she repeated, remembering her old teacher's saying. Harry made a disapproving face at her, and Hermione smiled again. "I'll be fine, Harry. Go on, you have a job to do, don't you?"

"And you have children to look after."

"I only have one-" Hermione cut herself off as Harry turned and threw a pointed look at Draco. She slapped him hard on the arm, much like she used to, and Harry winced.

"Alright, alright!" he rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm having George and Fred over for dinner tonight, Ginny'll be there too, obviously. You're welcome to join us… and you can bring Lissy too, if you want."

"12 Grimmauld Place, right? You do still live there, don't you?"

"Yeah, so you'll come?"

"What time do you want me there?"

"Seven, if you can make it. If not, I'll just send Fred and George over and they can figure out a way past these wards and drag you there."

"Alright, Harry." Hermione reached up and hugged him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, and pulled away. "Don't worry about me," she said when she saw his troubled expression. "I'll just turn him into a ferret if he tries anything." She smiled.

Harry nodded and with one last wave, he disapparated.

"You'll do no such bloody thing," Draco growled from behind her.

"It all depends on you, Malfoy. Try anything, and you're as good as furry."

* * *

><p><strong>An: Ah, I do so love these things... Hello dearies! Sorry for the wait! I haven't got much to say about this chapter... I won't go into too much detail about anything - I'm lazy, I'll admit - so you'll just have to... wait and see, I suppose. Next chapter soon! I've done the next few, but now I have an itty bitty case of writers block, so you may have to wait a while once I get the next... two or three out. I can't remember what chapter I'm up to. O_o**

**Oh, and for the purposes of this story - Fred is alive. Some other characters might be too, but I'm not sure... they're just alive cause I like them... and Fred is brilliant, so he's alive. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, YOU'RE NOT A POTTERHEAD. XD**

**R&R&L sweeties... Your words are always a great inspiration!**

**~Originalitys**


	13. Roses and Firewhiskey

Hermione turned back to face Draco and smiled when she saw his glare. "Come on, I want to see Lissy. Oh, don't look at me like that, Malfoy, you're going to be living with me now." Draco had been glaring at her with obvious irritation and the look was so familiar that Hermione couldn't help but laugh. She walked towards him and latched on to his arm, walking them through the gate - making sure he was the first to touch it, just in case.

"_You're _the one moving in to _my _house, Granger. I think you'll find that _you're _living with _me._" Draco argued, moving slightly to remove his arm from Hermione's grasp as he walked.

"I thought you had an apartment in Muggle London. As far as I'm concerned, this is your mother's house, not yours." Hermione chuckled, catching his annoyed expression.

They walked along the pathway to the front door, and Hermione began looking around. There was a large tree in the distance, alone in the centre of the lawn, surrounded by what appeared to be peacocks. She smiled at the sight of them. _It's beautiful here…_

"I have an apartment _and _a house," he said, drawing her attention back to him. "The apartment is for when my mother starts pestering me about things, or when she has guests… or for when I decide it's time for another drink. The manor is for dinner parties and tea parties and other… formal events." He picked a flower from a bush nearby and studied it. "You know, where everyone dresses up and has dates." He handed her the flower; a rose.

Hermione chuckled, taking the rose, sniffing it - it smelled sweeter than any rose she'd ever smelt before - and slid it carefully behind her ear when she discovered it was thornless. "And when there are dinner parties, you're either at them, standing in a corner avoiding your date, bored out of your mind, or getting piss drunk alone in your apartment, right?"

Draco stared at her. _How the bloody hell did she figure that out? No one ever does! And she swore!_

When he still didn't answer, Hermione laughed. "No one ever notices, do they? They're too caught up on the newest gossip spreading through pureblood society to notice their host is missing and his date is flirting with old, rich businessmen, intent on stealing their money."

Draco continued to stare at her as she figured out the inner workings of every dinner party he'd ever attended. _She really is a bloody know-it-all. Wonder what book she read all that in…_

"If you're done staring at me, your mother is watching us." Hermione said, looking away from him, up the path towards the manor. She had a small smile on her face.

Raising an eyebrow, Draco followed Hermione's line of sight up to the front door of the manor, and saw his mother standing there, a chocolate-covered Felicity perched carefully on her hip, smiling down at them as they walked slowly up the stairs to her.

"Oh, good, you're back! I was beginning to get worried! I came back from the paper to find this little dearie-" she shifted Felicity gently on her hip. "-eating chocolate cake all alone in the parlour and I started wondering where you two had gotten to. I saw the letter that Ron sent, and I was immediately concerned. I hoped you were both alright."

Draco was staring at his mother, confused, and Hermione voiced his thoughts right away.

"She was completely alone?" When Narcissa nodded, Hermione turned to him, looking downright furious. "You left my daughter alone? What the hell were you thinking?"

Trying to keep calm, Draco shook his head, which only seemed to make Hermione angrier. "I left her with the house elves – they were under strict orders to look after her." When she didn't look convinced, Draco's voice raised slightly. "I wouldn't leave her alone like that!"

Struggling to keep herself calm, Hermione lowered her voice, making her sound even more deadly than before. "Where the hell did your house elves go, then? Why weren't they with her? Why was my daughter, who I left in _your hands _all alone in someone else's house?"

"I don't know. I was with you the whole time. I can't be expected to know why the house elves left her. I told them to look after her." Draco's voice was equally as deadly as he responded. Hermione opened her mouth to yell at him, even though she was well aware of her daughter and Draco's mother watching curiously, but before she could make a single sound, a house elf suddenly appeared in the space between them, wearing a bright purple wig and large orange novelty glasses, sobbing. Hermione, had the situation been different, and had she not been furious with a certain blonde-haired, pale wizard standing before her, would have laughed at the house elf's strange attire. She managed a small smile though.

"Ziggy is sorry Master Draco, sir! Ziggy has lost Young Mistress! Ziggy was playing hide-and-seeks with Young Mistress and had gone to hide, sir, and when Ziggy was not found, went looking for Young Mistress, but Young Mistress was gone! All that was left was Young Mistress's cake! Ziggy is very sorry, sir! Ziggy is so very sorry that Ziggy failed Master."

The house elf continued to sob and yell, but Draco promptly knelt down so he was closer to eye level with her, and told her to 'be quiet'. When she didn't, Draco cast a Silencing Charm.

"Just nod for yes, and shake your head for no; you were playing hide-and-seek?" he asked, giving Hermione a pointed look. Hermione blushed and look at the house elf that was still shaking with silent sobs. Ziggy nodded, mouthing silent excuses and apologies.

"And Felicity was to come looking for you?" Ziggy nodded again, silently mouthing more apologies. "And when she didn't, you went in search of her?" Ziggy nodded once more.

"Ziggy, look at my mother," Draco ordered. Reluctantly, Ziggy did so, and let out a silent squeal and jumped, pointing at Felicity. Draco removed the Silencing Charm and the house-elf's cries were louder than ever.

"Young Mistress is here! Oh, Ziggy is so pleased to see Young Mistress! Ziggy thought she had lost her! Ziggy has ruined the Young Mistress's game now! Ziggy will go hide again!"

Before Ziggy could disappear, however, Draco loudly cleared his throat.

"Ziggy, what did I tell you before I left?"

"Master told Ziggy that Ziggy must look after Young Mistress and do whatever Young Mistress asked, sir," Ziggy replied obediently. "And Ziggy did what Master asked, sir."

"Thank you, Ziggy. You can go now; take Felicity. Mother, I think you'd better let Felicity go and play before we lose all our house elves. We may never find them otherwise."

Narcissa smiled at Felicity and gently placed her on the ground beside Ziggy, who took the toddler's hand and led her back inside, both of them laughing and skipping.

Hermione stared, blushing slightly, after her daughter, purposely avoiding Draco's gaze.

"Granger," he said, crossing his arms. His tone demanded that she listen to him.

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at him, crossing her own arms. Narcissa stood back, watching them with an amused expression.

"Yes, _Draco_?" She made a point of using his first name like an insult, but in a way that Narcissa wouldn't pick up on. To anyone else but Draco and Hermione, it would have sounded almost like a pet name. His glare made it clear he got her point, and his inability to speak was due to his fury over being made fun of in front of his own mother and trying to keep control of his temper when she so obviously infuriated him. Hermione took advantage of his silence and smirked at him, much like he used to do to her back at school.

"Now, now, Draco, you know better than to try and take advantage of a woman who was only concerned about the safety of her daughter, don't you? I think it would be an insult to Narcissa here if you tried to do that, and right in front of her no less." Hermione smiled as Draco's eyes narrowed, and in a sudden burst of courage, she stepped closer to him and pushed herself up onto her tip-toes to whisper in his ear, placing one hand gently on his chest, above his arms, allowing him to smell the incredibly sweet scent of the rose behind her ear. It was sickly-sweet to him; enticing at a distance, but dangerous if you got too close. "Not all roses have thorns, Draco, but each one has its own dangerous defences." She patted him gently on the chest and stepped away, smirking as she took in his dazed expression. "It would do you good to remember that, I think," she said, and turned to a very amused-looking Narcissa. "How did the meeting with Rita Skeeter go, Narcissa? Is she going to run another story?" Hermione smiled, gesturing to the open door and waited until Narcissa had stepped through it to look back at Draco, still smiling sweetly. Draco's expression had not changed a bit. Her grin widened as he tried to focus on her.

"Coming, _Draco_?" she asked, placing her hand on the frame of the door, looking back at him.

Blinking rapidly to bring himself back to the present, he nodded, and gestured at the door.

"After you, _Hermione,_" he smiled back at her, using the same tone as her as he said her name.

With one last fleeting smile, Hermione trailed after Narcissa, who had turned back to see why she was no longer being followed, and Draco came in soon after, shutting the door magically behind him. Following them into the parlour, he noticed the looks they each sent him as he sat down in an arm chair beside the fire; the one his father used to use.

_Bloody buggering hell, these women will be the death of me,_ he thought, conjuring a bottle of Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey and drinking straight from it, not bothering with the glass. _If I don't kill myself with Firewhiskey first, that is. _Which way would be less pleasant, or less painful, he wasn't sure, but he was pretty certain he didn't want to be the one to find out.

* * *

><p><strong>An: No, he's not an alcoholic. This is just a harmless bit of teasing between... whatever these two are.**

**How do you think the meeting with Rita went?**

**R&R&L sweeties!**

**~Originalitys**


	14. Portrait Whispers

"Draco, dear, how many times must I tell you not to do that?" Narcissa chastised, picking up her small cup of tea from the tray on the coffee table and taking a small polite sip.

Draco, who had just finished at least half of his bottle of Firewhiskey in one large gulp and placed the bottle less-than-gently back on the small table beside him, simply grunted in response and rubbed his throat as an slightly-uncomfortable burn made its way down it. Hermione was watching him, a slight expression of shock on her face – she'd never seen him like this before, nor had she seen someone drink so much Firewhiskey at once without yelling about the pain – as she took a sip of the glass of water in her hand. She opened her mouth to say something, but Draco cut her off.

"Don't say a bloody word, Granger," he warned in a low voice.

"Draco!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Watch your language!"

"It's alright, Narcissa," Hermione said, sending her a smile before looking back to Draco with a disapproving expression. "Something the matter, Malfoy?" she asked, her tone implying that there most definitely shouldn't be, and that he shouldn't say anything.

"Yes," he replied, his voice sounding dangerously close to that of a stubborn child.

"Well, please, do enlighten us, dear," Narcissa said, sounding as if that was the last thing she wanted him to do. She set down her teacup and stared at him expectantly.

"She's yet to apologise for her little… _defensive retaliation,_" Draco said, nodding at Hermione.

Narcissa sent Draco a scowl, folding her hands tightly in her lap as if to stop her reaching over and strangling him. "Honestly, Draco, is that all?"

Hermione tried hard to hide a smile and turned to him. "Well, if that is what's troubling you, _Draco_,then I'm very sorry for my outburst. I was mistaken."

Draco smirked – he was well aware that she wasn't in the least bit sorry, much like he expected – but he said nothing about it for the rest of the evening.

"So has she changed her mind about the paper?" Hermione asked, eyeing Draco warily.

"I'm sorry dear; she won't change anything now that it's printed. She says she doesn't have that kind of authority, and 'after all, a story is a story'. There's nothing I can do."

Hermione groaned and gracelessly slouched back into the couch. "I should have left her as a bug… I never should have let her out of that bloody jar."

Draco sniggered, taking another sip of his Firewhiskey. He recalled in their fourth year when Hermione had shown her friends, Ron and Harry, Rita Skeeter contained in a small glass jar as a beetle; she was an unregistered Animagus and had been sneaking around the castle during the Triwizard tournament collecting information from him and his Slytherin associates about Hagrid, the castle's gamekeeper, and Harry Potter, the youngest competitor of four in the tournament.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid we'll just have to wait until they find something else to entertain them," Narcissa began, beginning to feel uncomfortable at the mention of her friend as a beetle. "Maybe they'll find something interesting at the Ministry to take their minds off the three of you… or perhaps at the school."

"You know nothing's happened since they rebuilt the place, Mother… or at least nothing that the reporters have caught word of. I'm surprised that Skeeter has been relatively quiet lately, actually; she must be working on something big with all those meetings she's been having." Draco piped up, setting down his now-empty bottle. He conjured a second and was half done by the time Narcissa finished speaking, much to her disappointment.

"Well it's none of our business anyhow," said Narcissa, sending Draco a withering glare. She took a sip of her tea before continuing. "Rita is welcome to do what she wants in her spare time; if she finds a story worth printing in her paper, she will-"

"Make sure to ruin as many people's lives in the process, or else create rumours and scandals people will want to hear more about. That blasted woman was a Slytherin if I ever saw one," he growled, his voice beginning to slur slightly as he rubbed his burning throat.

"Wasn't she in Ravenclaw?" Hermione questioned.

"I was told she was a Gryffindor," Narcissa replied.

"My house could never house such a- a-"

"-slimy, worthless, no good bitch?" Draco offered, grinning lopsidedly.

"Language, Draco! Honestly, this is not how I raised you," his mother admonished.

"No, this is how the-"

"Draco! I'll not have you speak back to me like that."

"I'm not twelve, Mother."

"Well you're acting like it. No," Narcissa raised a hand, pushing herself gracefully to her feet, stopping Draco from arguing. "I've had enough. You've had too much to drink. I'm going down to the kitchens… I'll be having dinner in my own room tonight. I trust you can show Hermione to her room." She turned to face Hermione then and changed her expression from a scowl to a charming smile. Hermione wondered slightly if this was a talent all Slytherin's had. "Hermione, dear, I'm sorry to cut our chat short, but I'm going to head out now. Please, do excuse Draco, he's… been less-than-charming lately. I'll see you tomorrow – maybe for lunch in the gardens?"

Hermione nodded, returning her smile. "I'd love that."

"I shall see you then, then," and with one last reproachful glare at her son, Narcissa left the parlour. Hermione waited until the sounds of her clicking heels faded before she looked over at Draco. He had opened his own mouth to speak, but she interrupted quickly.

"Honestly, you're despicable," she said, standing up. "Treating your own mother like that in front of a guest." She crossed her arms with a huff and glared at him.

"I'd hardly called you a guest, Granger. You're more like a… bushy-haired squatter."

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Oh, right, you're a bushy-haired, _know-it-all _squatter. That's right."

Hermione simply groaned.

"What, there's more?" Draco looked astonished. He set down his bottle of Firewhiskey and gestured towards her, as if to say 'Please, continue.'

"You invited me here, you Tosspot! You said, as I recall, 'Come live with me' and you were quite enthusiastic about it too."

"Was not…" he mumbled.

"Ugh, you're positively…" Hermione's face scrunched up as she attempted to think of a worthwhile insult, but she was unable to think of something good enough, so she settled on "… ghastly."

"Ah, well, that's an improvement, I suppose, from a foul, loathsome _slap in the face,_" Draco snarled, suddenly on his feet. Hermione took a step back as he stepped towards her.

Hermione, taken aback, stopped. "You remember that?"

"Hard to forget being slapped in the face, Granger; you always remember your first time, don't you?"

"I was the first person to-" Her eyes widened and she smirked. "I should have hit you harder; made it more memorable, so to speak."

"Oh, it was memorable already. No slap compared, honest," Draco said, his voiced heavily laced with sarcasm. "Not even _Pansy _slaps as good as you do, and she's done it for _years._"

Hermione rolled her eyes, clenching her fists as an urge to slap him again filled her. _Stupid bouncing ferret prat… I can't believe I'm going to live with him!_

Draco shook his head. "If you're wondering, I'm not drunk."

Hermione stared. "Wha-?"

"Wanted to get my mother out of the room before she started showing you my bloody baby pictures," he shrugged. "I'd need about seven bottles of Ogden's Finest before I even got tipsy; I've got so much of that hangover potion in me right now it'll keep me close to sober for days. Taking it every day does that."

"You're a dick, Malfoy. Honestly, you could have just asked her to leave."

"Me? Ask my mother to leave while there was another woman in the room? I don't think so Granger. She's known me long enough to know that I have less-than-noble intentions when that happens. And," he cut her off as she opened her mouth. "No, it doesn't matter that it's _you_ in the room with me, my mother has been led to believe that nothing matters to me when it comes to things like that, not even past encounters with the women I meet. I'm sure you heard of my rather flattering title back in school?"

Hermione made a face – once again shocked as he guessed her train of thought – and nodded. It was a well-spread rumour, started by none other than Pansy Parkinson, that Draco Malfoy was the one and only Slytherin Sex God. The rumour went so far as to say he had himself a basilisk in his Chamber of Secrets. She shuddered at the thought, but a slow blush crept up her cheeks as her mind wandered. Draco smirked.

"Well, I hate to disappoint, Granger, but I don't have any intention to revisit my school activities tonight, so… I'm going to go to dinner." Without another word, Draco made his way to the door that his mother had exited from just before.

Hermione nodded distractedly. _Dinner… with Harry and Ginny and Fred and George… I don't know if I should go by myself… and Lissy isn't much of a companion anyway. I wonder if I- _"Will you come to dinner with me?" she blurted, turning to face him, a new blush forming on her face. Hermione had no idea why she'd just asked him. _It's because he's the only person who doesn't hate- no… he's just the only person who's talking to you at the moment._

Draco, who had just reached the door, slowly removed his hand from the doorknob and turned to face her. "I was under the impression you were already coming to dinner with _me_, what with you living in my house and all."

"N-no, I mean, Harry invited me over for dinner tonight with Ginny and her brothers and-"

"You don't want to go alone because you haven't seen them for years, and Lissy isn't much of a dinner companion because she's a toddler?"

_Oh my god… How the hell did he do that? _"I- Look, never mind, I'll just take Lissy. She'll be a good enough distraction. Forget I even asked."

Draco shrugged. "If you say so, Granger... you can go find Lissy and I'll change the wards so you can come and go as you please. Your room will be up the stairs just outside this door-" he gestured to the one behind him. "-to the left and the… third door on the right; there's a bathroom and everything in there, so you've got nothing to worry about on that front and… my room is the one across the hall, if you need anything… or you can just call out for a house elf. I'll let them know you're a temporary family member so they actually listen to you. They already listen to Lissy so..."

Hermione nodded and Draco turned back to the door again, but just before he walked out, Hermione took a step forward and called out to him, reaching up slowly to take the flower from behind her ear.

"Malfoy?" she asked, twirling the rose gently as she stared at it.

He turned back to look at her, but she didn't meet his gaze. "Yes, Granger?" he asked.

"Thanks… for- for looking after Lissy and-and letting me stay here. I- Thanks." Hermione couldn't seem to put it into words how much she wanted to thank him. He hadn't mocked her for crying, nor laughed at her misfortune, and she was grateful for that.

"Right…" he nodded once and turned around again.

"Oh, and Draco?" she called out once more.

This time, he didn't turn back. _Just let me fucking leave! _"Yes?"

"Thanks for the rose."

He nodded one last time and left the room, sighing as he closed the door behind him.

Hermione stared after him, and when the door closed, she looked around the empty room. "Uh… Ziggy?" she called quietly. "Ziggy can I talk to you for a moment?"

After a second, the house elf she'd seen out the front of the manor appeared, still wearing the wig and the glasses, and looked up at her. "Miss is a friend of Master Draco's, yes?"

Hermione nodded. "How can Ziggy be of service to Miss?"

"Uh… Ziggy, I-I was wondering if you could show me where Lissy is."

"Young Mistress? Oh! Young Mistress is in Master Draco's room. Shall Ziggy fetch Young Mistress for Miss?"

"Y-Yes, please. Could you take her to our room? It's the… one across the hall from Draco's. I'll be there soon."

"Ziggy will meet Miss with Young Mistress in Miss's room, Miss!" and with that, the house-elf disappeared, and Hermione made her way up to her room, ignoring the strange looks the portraits gave her on the way there. One of them, however – a portrait of a young blonde-haired girl with bright blue eyes that was just outside the door to her new room – smiled at her, and just as she opened the door, she whispered words that stuck in Hermione's mind for a long time, even if she didn't understand them for a while.

"_He always was a rebellious boy._"

* * *

><p><strong>An: WELL. I like that portrait. Draco is an itty bit of a rude boy once again... and he LIKES FIREWHISKEY. Anyway... quick update, cause I loves y'all...**

**OPINIONATAYS, PLAYSE.**

**R&R&L my loves.**

**Oh, and to answer some reviews...**

**Roosa: That'll be revealed later on, I promise. I SWEAR IT ON MERLIN'S MAGIC.  
>CGinny: That'll also be revealed later on... I promise. But I swear on Dumbledore's grave that Lissy's father is neither Ron (thank MERLIN), nor Draco (sadly).<br>KraZiiePyrozHavemoreFun: I definitely, most completely, agree. They have SO. MUCH. CHEMISTRY. IT'S BRILLIANT. But I'm glad you think so, because it's a credit to my writing that I'm able to portray that... Thankyou for the indirect compliment, my dear!**

**lol. Hope that helps, lovies! **

**~Originalitys**


	15. Grimmauld Dinners

Hermione readied herself for dinner slowly after unpacking her things. She had a shower, taking the time to wash her hair and her body with her favourite avocado and pomegranate soaps – which actually smelt fantastic together – before stepping out and wrapping herself in a towel. She stared at herself in the mirror, thinking over the past few years. Raising Felicity the muggle way, with a little help from magic, and keeping her hidden from a world that wouldn't understand, returning, finally, to England, to her childhood home, revisiting Diagon Alley after so many years away, and seeing all her old friends again, as well as her old enemies. _What am I doing back here? I didn't need to come back. I didn't _want _to until I gave- No. Don't think like that. Just get ready for dinner. _Hermione shook her head, her damp hair flying into her face, and pulled on her clothes – underwear, black leggings, and a simple black and white thigh length dress – successfully distracting herself from the thoughts inside her head, until thoughts of the evening ahead invaded her mind. _What will Ginny say?_

She took her time brushing out her hair – she knew she had to be there by seven, but she still had at least fifteen minutes, and she could probably just Floo there from the fireplace in her room, and Felicity was already dressed, lying asleep on the large bed with Ziggy keeping an eye on her – and she eventually pulled it all back into a slightly-messy French braid. She was just brushing a small amount of blush on her cheeks when there was a knock on the bathroom door. She paused and put down her brush, staring at the door's reflection in the mirror with a curious expression.

"Granger?" a voice called from the opposite side. There was a pause, then another knock and call in the same slightly-impatient tone that she'd grown used to during the day.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione turned and pulled open the door. Draco stood before her, one hand raised as if to knock again, the other running through his hair as he looked down at the floor with an impulsive kind of interest.

"Something I can do for you?" she asked.

He looked up suddenly and, taking in her appearance, stopped despite himself. _Merlin's hairy balls, she looks- _"I-" _It's Granger, you nitwit! Don't think about her like that! Quit staring! How does she manage to wear something so simple and look so- _"I-"

"You…?" Hermione prompted, a small smile gracing her features. _Damn her!_

"I… modified the wards. You can apparate to and from here, now, so… right. The, uh, fireplace in here hasn't been connected to the Network yet, but if you want I can-"

"That'd be great, thanks," Hermione said, suddenly feeling awkward under his stare. She looked at her watch, _five minutes_, then over at Felicity, who suddenly had chocolate all over her face. "Oh, Gods, Felicity!" she cried, pushing past Draco to walk over to the bed. She picked Felicity up off the covers and carried her back into the bathroom, placing her on the bench and dampening a wash cloth under the sink with one hand while she held her daughter up with the other. "How you manage to get it onto your forehead, I'll never know," she chastised, wiping the giggling toddlers face. Then she noticed the stain on her little red dress and let out a groan when her wand did nothing to cleanse it. _Note to self – chocolate plus clothes equals bad, even if you're a witch. _Hermione didn't know why a simple _Scourgify _didn't work, but she was very annoyed at the prospect of magic being useless at that point in time. She decided suddenly that magic wasn't as great as she once thought.

She looked up at the mirror and saw Draco still standing in the doorway, watching her with a somewhat shocked expression, his hands shoved in his pockets, and gave him a small smile. "Can – would you be able to hold her for a second? I've got to go get a change of clothes for her. Just… make sure she doesn't fall off… or get any dirtier."

Draco nodded silently, stepping forward to gently hold on to Felicity so she wouldn't fall off the bench, as Hermione rushed past him, straight into the walk-in-wardrobe next to the bathroom. Felicity giggled, poking the muscles in his arms as if they were incredibly entertaining, and looked up at her mother when she returned with a small blue and white lace dress and white sandals in her hands. She put them on the bench next to her daughter and looked at Draco. "I- uh, I've got it now, thanks. Is there anything else you wanted?"

"No," Draco replied shortly, stepping away as Hermione pulled Felicity to her feet on the bench top. "I'll connect the fireplace to the Network for you while you're gone though, if you'd like," he added hastily. Hermione was silent for a moment, trying to stop Felicity from moving, and Draco stared at her reflection in the mirror as she struggled.

"Thanks, that'd be great," Hermione answered distractedly, gently removing the red dress from Felicity's wriggling form and slipping the blue and white one over the top. She sat her daughter down again and put the sandals on her before picking her up and turning to him, slightly shocked to see him still standing there. They wordlessly made their way out to the bedroom itself and Hermione picked up her handbag from the top of a stack of books, passing it to her daughter, while Draco stood uncomfortably near the door. "I'll see you later, then?" she asked him, slightly awkwardly, before she left.

"Yeah… I'll see you," he nodded, and with one last smile and a wave from Felicity, Hermione disappeared, leaving Draco alone in the bedroom. He shook his head quickly, _one day and she's already messing with my head_, and left the room, calling on a house elf to deliver his dinner to his own room and conjuring yet another bottle of Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey. He needed a distraction, and alcohol was as good as any.

Once she arrived at Harry's house, where he answered the door with a smile – after, of course, letting out a surprised 'I didn't think you'd come!' – and a hug, Hermione soon forgot all about the awkwardness she'd experienced moments before when a new wave of uncomfortableness fell over her. Harry led her down the familiar halls – now transformed to be somewhat more welcoming – and into the kitchen, which had been painted and neatened up since Hermione had last been there. Sitting at the table in the kitchen were Ginny, who greeted Hermione with a wary smile and a small hug, George, who waved distractedly as he wrote on a piece of parchment, and Fred, who's eyes widened at the sight of her before he pulled her into what would have been a bone-crushing hug, had he not noticed the toddler in her arms at the last second.

"Blimey, Hermione, she looks just like you… 'cept for the hair, of course," he said, bending slightly at the knee to get a better look at her.

George, who had vanished the piece of parchment when he, too, noticed Felicity, stood up from the table and walked over to greet her properly – a small hug and a pat on the head – before gazing down at her daughter. "Skeeter was right to assume she was the ferret's kid… with hair like that, anyone'd think she was his."

"She's not Malfoy's though, is she?" Ginny piped up from beside them. Hermione turned to her and shook her head. Ginny smiled slightly and nodded.

"No, definitely not; he was more annoyed about the paper thing than I was," she laughed softly and everyone else joined in.

"I'd expect so," Harry laughed. "He is Malfoy, after all."

"I don't think he'd want to be joined to you in any way," Fred said.

"Even if you are the newest celebrity to grace the papers," George finished.

More laughs filled the kitchen and Hermione was once again reminded of the past.

"Well, shall we eat?" Harry asked, gesturing at the table, which was suddenly filled with tray upon tray of food. "I'm starving."

Everyone nodded and took their places at the table, Harry, Ginny and Fred on one side, Felicity – in a high chair that Harry conjured - George and Hermione on the other.

"So what do you guys do now?" Hermione asked, piling some mashed potatoes onto her and her daughter's plates.

"Well, Fred and I are still running the shop – we take turns though, because we like to help out Pothead with his Auror work-" George began, passing a plate of sausages to his brother.

"Hey!" Harry protested, struggling to appear serious as he laughed.

"Liar, you guys don't like helping at all," Ginny interrupted trying to contain a laugh.

"_Sometimes_," George finished, chuckling openly.

"I'm an Auror, obviously," Harry piped up, smiling. "And, as payback for these two nearly costing me my job on a regular basis, I help out at the shop every week."

"Or at - least you - try to," Fred said between mouthfuls. He swallowed before finishing. "You've been called out to work more times than I can count what with all those rogue Eaters running around."

"It's not my fault!" Harry argued.

"We know, Harry," Ginny said. "I just hate it when you get called out during one of my matches. You haven't seen a full one yet, and we won the last three!"

"Matches?" Hermione queried.

"Gin here plays for the Hollyhead Harpies now," Harry grinned. "And she gets pretty pissed when I disappear, even at training."

"Yeah, well, considering you're supposed to _help me _train, I can't help but get pissed."

Hermione laughed as they continued to bicker and ate her food in silence.

"So what do you do, 'Mione?" Ginny asked, pushing Harry's face away roughly and turning to look at her.

"Oh – I don't do anything," Hermione said quietly. "I haven't had the chance to find a job because I've been looking after Lissy here."

"You really don't have a job?" George asked.

"How have you been able to afford an apartment and food?" Harry questioned, wide eyed, when Hermione nodded. He knew she was trying to find a job, but he thought she already had one with muggles and wanted to get one within the Ministry, like she'd said earlier.

"I – uh – got some money from a family member before I came back to England and, well, since I'm not staying at my apartment any more, I don't really have to worry about it. As soon as I find a job, I'll be able to find a bigger place for Lissy and me."

"You're not staying at your apartment? Where are you staying then?" Ginny asked, and she suddenly turned to Harry. "I thought you said that she wasn't moving in with Ron?"

"I – I did. She's not moving in with Ron." Harry replied.

"Then… where?" Ginny asked.

All eyes turned to Hermione, and she swallowed nervously. "I – I moved in with Mal-" she began, but before she could finish, Fred yelled, staring at her wide-eyed from across the table, "No way! Not with that blasted ferret!"

All Hermione could do was nod and continue eating silently.

"Oh, Godric…" she heard Ginny mutter.

"It's just until I find a job," she said, and no one asked any questions after that.

The rest of the dinner went on moderately well. No one asked any questions about Hermione's past, what happened between her and Ron, or why she was living with Malfoy, and Hermione even got two free tickets to the Harpies' next game while they all enjoyed their dinner and dessert happily until Felicity let out a yawn.

"I think I'd better take her home…" Hermione murmured, tucking a piece of loose hair behind Felicity's ear.

"Yeah, that might be a good idea," Fred said, smiling adoringly at the toddler. "Poor thing's had a rough day, I'd guess."

Hermione smiled. "Yeah, she has."

She stood up, wiping her face with a napkin, and hugged everyone once more, thanking them for dinner. She picked up Felicity from her high chair and smiled again.

"I'll come with you to the door," Ginny said, while the boy's began to pack up the empty plates at the table.

Hermione nodded and they made their way out from the room.

"Look, I – I'm sorry about what happened back there."

"It's alright, Gin," Hermione said. "Nothing to worry about, really…"

Ginny nodded and they continued walking on in silence until they reached the door.

"Hermione," Ginny said, just as she reached for the handle.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about Ron; he's really being a git to everyone lately."

Hermione smiled. "Nothing I can't handle," she lied.

Ginny smiled back and nodded. "I'll try and get him to back off a bit, alright?"

"Thanks, Gin," she replied. She gave her one last hug and opened the door, stepping out into the cool night air. It was around nine o'clock and Hermione was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion. With a tired wave at Ginny, she disapparated back to her room at Malfoy Manor, changed in a daze, placed Felicity in her crib in the corner and collapsed into the bed, falling into a sudden and dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>An: YAY. PEOPLE. Fred's not dead, cause I love Fred, and the Weasley's love Hermione as much as I love them. I probably said that before, but whatever. :P**

**REVIEW ANSWER TIME. Please read them if you're curious. :D**

**To MidniteSilverWolf: First of all, I'd like to say thank you VERY much for your comment. But I'll have to say that no, Lucius isn't the father... that would be creepy. XD As for the length of the story, I'm not sure. I'm thinking that it'll be at least forty chapters. Not really sure. But I know it will be more than twenty, and at least thirty... I'm writing it relatively quickly though, so it won't seem like so long. I'm going to start making the chapters longer, though, so it'll be better... perhaps that'll make less chapters. Anyway, I'm rambling... I hope that helped, love!**

**To BelleBelles: A lot of people are guessing Lucius is the father, actually, after they've found out that Draco isn't, but Felicity is in no way related to the Malfoy's, unfortunately. :P But anyway, no, Lucius is not the father. You'll find out who the father is eventually, I swear. You'll get clues in the next few chapters. :D Thanks for the review, love.**

**To the rest of you: R&R&L my dears, you know I love hearing what you think!**

**~Originalitys**


	16. Patterns, Interruptions and Children

The next week passed relatively uneventfully for Hermione. She spent each day with Felicity – who Ziggy had taken responsibility of, of her own accord – cooped up in the Malfoy's library, skimming over her rejection letters and replying to the one's that offered interviews, letting them know when she was free to meet them. She wrote down the few dates and times in her small planner and piled up each letter after she'd read them. Draco interrupted her once or twice a day, letting her know that she'd received Floo calls or letters, to deliver letters or packages – which shocked Hermione, because he could have had house-elves deliver them – and once, during a particularly nasty thunderstorm on Thursday, he had simply come by to – Hermione assumed – check that both she and Felicity were alright, and to deliver hot chocolate, and he'd sat down in an arm chair close to the desk Hermione – who jumped every time there was a clap of thunder – was at and read for an hour before closing his book – around the time the storm ended – with a barely audible snap and leaving, pausing to hand a very disappointed Felicity a small package – which turned out to be some kind of bewitched toy that transformed into different things, depending on what Felicity squealed at it – before he did. Narcissa called her for regular meetings in the garden each afternoon, where they sat discussing a number of things over cups of tea and some kind of lemonade that Hermione found made her tipsy after two or three glasses, while Felicity played with her bewitched toy in the shade of a tree nearby. Aside from the strange mutters that the blonde portrait offered each time Hermione went to and from her room – mainly consisting of "_I knew he'd be different"_, "_He's always been different" _and _"He'll change this family yet"_ – she found herself settling into a comfortable pattern.

On the following Tuesday afternoon, however, there was a slight interruption to her day. She'd been sitting alone in the library – Ziggy had taken Felicity up to her room, as she'd been close to falling asleep against a book shelf – when there was a loud knock on the door, which followed a muffled shout that Hermione couldn't make out. She stood up slowly from the desk when the knocking – and shouting – persisted and approached the door cautiously. She knew then that it couldn't be either of the Malfoy's, because they normally, in Narcissa's case, knocked once and let herself in, whereas Draco simply opened the door and entered, which Hermione had grown somewhat used to during her stay.

Hermione had just reached for the handle when the voices became more pronounced.

"Take this god-damned spell of the door _right now _Malfoy, or so help me I will-" said a vaguely familiar voice, causing Hermione to move her hand back quickly from the handle. If Malfoy had jinxed the door to stop someone entering, she was better off not touching it. It was around that point that she noticed the green sparks crackling around the door.

"You will _what_," someone else interrupted. "Poke me with your wand? You know full well you can't so much as cast a Summoning Charm while you're under my roof," a voice, Hermione suddenly recognised as belonging to Draco, snarled.

"Let me into this bloody room!" the first voice growled. "I know she's in there; it's the only room that won't open when I pull the handle!"

"Try again, weasel, I dare you. See what happens." When Draco spoke, Hermione gasped. _Ron was here? How the hell did he get past the wards? What the-_

"Fuck off, Malfoy."

There was a silence, then a loud _bang _that echoed through the walls of the Manor.

"Hermione! Open the door!" when she focused, she recognised it as Ron's voice instantly.

Hermione remained silent, only a single step from the door.

"Hermione, please; I need to talk to you! It's really important!"

"Go away!" she shouted back. "I don't want to talk to you!"

"You heard her, Weasley, now get the fuck out of my house."

"I'm not going anywhere, you-"

"Go _away_!" Hermione screamed. She was sure that, by now, even Draco's closest neighbours could hear her clearly. "I don't want to talk to you, so leave!"

There was the sound of clinking footsteps and a new voice came into play.

"I'm sorry, Mr Weasley, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Hermione obviously does not wish to speak with you, and while she is living under the roof of this house, her wants are as important as mine," Narcissa said calmly. "While I'm confused as to how you managed to get past my wards without anyone noticing, if you leave now, I'm sure we can forget all about it."

There was a pause, then a voice that was just louder than normal speaking to her through the closed door. "I'll send you an owl, alright, 'Mione? There's something you really need to know," and before Hermione could even think of responding, the sound of footsteps echoed and eventually faded. The green sparks vanished, and the door creaked open. Draco's head appeared through the small opening in the door and looked around until he caught sight of her and he looked her over once, twice and three times before speaking.

"You didn't touch the door, did you?"

"What did you do to it?" she asked, instead of answering.

"Hexed it," he said, shrugging. "It would have thrown him back and burned him if he touched the handle for more than five seconds… that's what the bang was. Stupid git tried to knock on the door again and he hit the opposite wall." Draco smiled, obviously happy at the thought; Hermione was surprised she didn't hear him laugh when it happened.

She chuckled. "Did he mention why he was here, other than to tell me something important? Did he say anything about what he had to tell me?"

He shrugged again, stepping fully into the room as he grew uncomfortable. "Didn't say a word until he got to this hallway; I figured out where he was going and jinxed the door, and I wasn't going to let him in unless you wanted to talk to him."

Hermione smiled, stepping back as he entered the room. "Thanks for that."

"Don't mention it, Granger," he said. "Really, _don't._"

Hermione chuckled once again. "How did he even get in here? I thought you said anyone who wasn't allowed would be blasted back ten feet," she stared at him quizzically.

"Potter must have done something to the wards when he took his own down. I didn't think to check them, but I'll do that later," he shrugged again and pocketed the wand he still had in his hand and looked behind her, at the desk Hermione had made her temporary office. It was currently covered in three neat piles of parchment, and a large book was open in the centre of it for a bit of "light reading" when she got bored, which she did frequently when she wasn't with Lissy – which was quite a bit, as of late, and it made her a little upset.

"Well," he said, turning his gaze back to her. "I'll leave you to… whatever it is you're doing." He turned to leave, but paused and turned back after a moment. "Oh, and, at my mother's request, I let the Heads of the other Departments know you were looking for work. They'll probably send owls over the next few days. The head of Regulation and Control already Flooed for you; he wants to meet with you on Thursday."

"Oh, I… thank you. Just, uh, did he want me to speak with him before then, or…?"

"No, but he'll probably send an owl," Draco said.

Hermione nodded. Just as she was about to respond, however, an owl flew through a window behind them and landed on Hermione's shoulder, an officially sealed envelope in its beak. Draco stared at it while Hermione took the envelope, and the owl flew back out the window.

Hermione opened the envelope and as she read, her eyes became teary and her fingers loosened their hold on the letter, causing it to fall gently to the ground.

"Granger? What is it?"

She muttered something that sounded like 'two weeks' and he walked towards her slowly, bending to pick up the letter as she stood, tears falling as she stared at the ground, in front of him.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_It has come to our attention that you currently hold custody of one Felicity Bella Granger, who, according to our sources, is fathered by one Ronald Bilius Weasley. Mister Weasley has come to our department, requesting custody of one Felicity Bella Granger, and we are holding the first trial on the second last Tuesday of this month – the 17__th__ – at 10 o'clock in courtroom four._

_Best wishes,_

_Kind regards,_

_Marsha Waters_

_Department of Management of Wizarding Families_

_Ministry of Magic_

He read over the letter once, twice, three times then looked up at her before speaking.

"Hermione…"

"He's trying for custody," Hermione said slowly, finally meeting his gaze through teary eyes. "He's - he's trying to take my daughter."

* * *

><p><strong>An: ... woah. NOH. WAI. BRAH.**

**Review replies, cause I'm too lazy to reply to them separately.**

**Nala Moon: First of all, I like your name. :P The information is coming soon, I swear. I'll say... within the next five chapters at least... if I remember.**

**Lingo10: Yeah, I thought that was a funny bit. I'm trying to add humour to the story... Let me know if it's working, yeah?**

**AS FOR THE REST OF Y'ALL: R&R&L my dears.**

**~Originalitys**


	17. Garden Trials

A week later, Draco was sitting in the gardens at the Manor, watching Felicity imitate a peacock, while his mother and Hermione lounged under an umbrella on the veranda. He had one leg out straight; the other bent with the elbow of his left arm resting on it, and was supporting himself on his other arm stretched out behind him. The toy he'd given her as a present was currently appearing as a spinning top, levitating just a centimetre off the palm of his left hand, and he glanced at it briefly as it dropped into his hand.

He'd been thinking over the events from one week previous, where Ron Weasley had somehow gotten on to the grounds of the Manor and demanded entrance to the library Hermione had been spending her time; entrance which he was promptly refused. There had been a brief period of conversation between him and Hermione, when an owl arrived, stating that the git who'd trespassed on his land, was now trying to take custody of a child that wasn't even his, which somehow infuriated him immensely.

Draco had mulled over what he remembered of the letter – which was most of it, as it was so short – and watched the way Felicity and Hermione interacted; he knew how these kinds of things worked, they checked out who was the better parental figure and acted accordingly. From what he had seen both from their original meeting and their time together over the past few weeks, Hermione was an incredible parent, despite what she thought of herself.

"_He's going to take her!" Hermione had argued the day before, where he had met her in the hall outside their rooms and asked her what she was going to do about the trial the next week._

"_I don't think they'll let him, Granger," he had replied calmly._

"_They will! He's one of the top god-damned Aurors; of course they'll give her to him!"_

"_Do you really have so little faith in yourself as a parent, Granger? Do you really think they'll go and investigate him and see he's better than the person who's been parenting for the past three years and looking after Pothead and Weasel for years before that?" he'd queried._

"_Yes!" she'd screamed, not hesitating in the least._

_Draco had simply shaken his head, catching sight of the portrait smiling behind Hermione, and forgetting the furious, teary-eyed woman before him, he stared at the portrait with a curious expression. She was eyeing the pair of them with a knowing look and he had the sneaking suspicion she was thinking something he wouldn't approve of…_

"Mister Dwaco?"

A young, childish voice pulled him from his thoughts and he looked away from the toy in his palm, which had turned into ball, the size of his fist, which was now the same blue as the eyes of the portrait outside Hermione's room.

"Hmm? What is it, Liss?"

Instead of answering, Felicity simply pointed somewhere to the up and to the left of herself.

Draco followed the length of her arm to look up at where Hermione stood, a knee length, yellow sundress billowing gently in the breeze as she held one of his mother's pale white umbrellas over her head. He found it strange that he didn't notice, until then, that the umbrella had cast a large shadow over his entire form. He tried hard to refrain from visibly starting at her presence. He was very unused to being surprised, and she'd managed to surprise him once again, like her daughter had done, weeks before.

"Mummy," Felicity said finally. He looked back at her, smiling.

"I noticed," he said, and looked back up at Hermione. "Something you wanted?"

Hermione fingered the hem of her dress more or less nervously and remained silent. Draco sat up a bit straighter and stared at her. "Granger?"

She shook her head almost to herself and gently sat herself beside him, her legs bent politely at her side. She was silent for a minute, watching Felicity play with the ball she'd stolen from Draco's hand, before speaking, almost vacantly, as she avoided Draco's eyes. "I told Narcissa about the custody trials next week."

Draco nodded slowly, sitting up straighter still and bending his right leg under his left. "And…?"

"She says she's willing to speak for me at the trial; she's going to tell them how good of a parent I am," Hermione said, raising a hand to wave at Felicity, who was spinning in circles about two metres from them and smiling like a maniac.

"But…?" Draco asked, following her gaze.

"I don't want her to. Everyone's read the papers, and they all know that I'm living here now, so they'll think that's influenced her reasoning. I don't want her to have to go to all the trouble, just to be sent out without a second thought."

"Come on, Granger, you know how these things work. You've read all about trials, I know you have. They can't let anything outside the courtroom influence their judgement."

Hermione nodded blankly, looking around the gardens. _Never stopped them before…_

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"Before Ron came to my apartment a few weeks ago, I started wondering what it would be like if I ever lost Lissy and… and now, I might be losing her… I don't know what I'm going to do." Hermione looked right at him then, and he looked back at her. Hermione, once again, had unshed tears pooling in the bottom of her eyes, and her hand loosened to the extent that the umbrella fell from it and blew away slightly. Draco stared back at her, feeling slightly concerned – something he'd been doing ever since she'd taken up residence in his house, much to his shock… and annoyance – and he gave her a smile.

"Go show those pigs at the Ministry that you're a perfectly capable of being Lissy's mother," he shrugged.

Hermione chuckled weakly and looked down at her hand resting on the grass. "Aren't you one of those pigs at the Ministry though?"

"I'm hardly ever there," he replied with a chuckle. "So I don't count as one of them."

She looked up at him suddenly, her eyes wide, and he frowned.

"What?"

"If you hardly ever go in to the Ministry, where do you disappear to during the day?"

Draco shrugged again. "I wander the house, look after things, do work in the East Wing and check over the family business, mainly. I spend most of my time in the study near my mother's room, and since you're locked up in that library all the time, you hardly notice."

Hermione nodded and looked over at Felicity once again, and they both watched her spinning and playing for a few minutes in a comfortable silence.

"I'll speak for you at the trial if you want," Draco said suddenly. Hermione's gaze flickered to him, and she found he was already watching her. "I've seen the way you are with her, and you're much better at… all of this… than Weasley ever could be."

Hermione looked away again, back towards her daughter, who was now attempting to take off the white sandals on her feet, and remained silent for a minute. Draco watched Felicity successfully take off one sandal before jumping slightly as Hermione spoke; he'd almost forgotten she was there, she was so quiet.

"Be her father," she said quietly.

Draco had to stare at her for a moment before finding his voice. "Be… what?"

"Be her father," Hermione repeated, a little louder than before, still not looking at him. "The public already thinks you're her dad, so why not use that to our advantage?"

Draco continued to stare at her, shocked, and he had a fleeting thought that perhaps she should have been in Slytherin in her school years. Though this was a prominent thought in his mind, he was struck with a feeling not unlike guilt, as he found, in the back of his mind, a thought had broken free of its bonds, so to speak, and he was hit with thoughts of his own family. His hand moved of its own accord into his pocket, where a rough, creased piece of paper met his fingers, crinkled from being folded and unfolded again and again, and from being moved from pocket to pocket as he changed clothes. He didn't dare remove the piece of paper while Hermione was there, but he suddenly hit with a feeling of understanding for what she was going through. He'd lost members of his own family before, and he understood, now, at least, what it was like for her. He was just about to speak, when Hermione voiced the plan she had been thinking of since she first caught wind of the idea.

"… they think that you are the father, and even though they can't have any outside influence, we can bring what's outside _inside_ and use that. Lissy looks like you, so there'll be no trouble convincing them of that…"

"Granger," he said. She looked at him, finally, and was shocked to find that _his_ shocked expression had vanished, to be replaced by one of badly-hidden determination, understanding, and slight humour. She tilted her head to the side, slightly, and he continued. "It's a plan worth considering."

"But…?"

"There are other alternatives. Look," he raised a hand to stop the inevitable argument. "I know you've got some weird idea in that bushy head of yours that no one in that courtroom will listen to you at all, but they have to at least hear you out, Granger. If you use the right words, and play the right cards, they'll be like… what's that Muggle phrase? Like puppy's in your hand...?"

"Putty," Hermione prompted, stifling a laugh.

"Right. Anyway… Play the right cards, use the right words, be the right person, and they'll be like putty in the palm of your hand."

"I'm not going to go and be a different person in the-"

"That's not what I'm saying, Granger." Draco interrupted. "I'm saying you're a single mother, so _be _a single mother. I'm saying you're a woman, so be one." He held up a hand to stop her argument again, and continued. "Don't come across as the overly headstrong Gryffindor that you so obviously are; be the compassionate, loving mother that you've been for the past three years instead. Show them you're capable of doing this on your own; show them you've been capable since she was born. Granger, if you want to keep Lissy, act like it. Make them see how much you love her, and they'll swing it in your favour."

Hermione considered this for a few minutes, analysing, as she so often did, the consequences and benefits of this idea. She only had to listen to him to know that her original idea was looking like Lissy herself had come up with it instead of her. There was, however, on simple flaw.

"What if they expect me to do that?"

"Marsha has been in that department for at least a decade, Granger. She'll want to keep this hidden as much as the press will want to know about it, so she'll take it on herself; and if her previous cases are anything to go by, she's not going to expect that. She's an intimidating woman, so people think she won't take well to the emotional side of things, but she's a lot like that Slughorn bloke we had for Potions – slightest bit of emotional talk, and she gets teary eyed. I know you're well-put for that 'work is work and home is home' thing, but this has to be the exception. If you're too… business-like, they'll see you as a workaholic who has no time for Lissy… and if you're too emotional, they'll see you as someone who won't work in fear of causing emotional discomfort to yourself and your daughter. You have to balance both in a way that shows you as the perfect parent… and while you're living here, the investigations will be difficult _not_ to pass."

Hermione, silent once more, smiled slightly. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you just paid me a few compliments and gave me some worthwhile advice."

"Well, you don't know me at all," he said, though not rudely, and stood up, offering her a hand and pulling her to her feet. "So, I think I did just that."

And, without really knowing why, Draco rubbed the knuckles of the hand he still held with his thumb, just once, let her hand fall gently back to her side, and walked away, but not before pausing and muttering something under his breath.

Something, Hermione thought, which sounded incredibly like a muffled whisper of 'I like the dress.'

* * *

><p>Two days later, Hermione received an owl from the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures while she was in the library again, stating that she had the job and was to begin at the start of the next month in the Being Division, and in small font on the bottom of the letter was small, scratchy writing, obviously written by someone other than the original owner of the letter.<p>

_Granger, he can't take your child without being related directly. I can organise for a DNA test the muggle way, but it will be difficult to convince the Wizengamot to use it in court. You won't have any way to contact me, but I'll contact you whenever I find information that will be useful for you. I'll intercept any letters I can to send you information, but don't expect any soon. - T.F.W._

"T.F.W? Who could-?"

"Granger, what the _hell_ are you doing?"

Draco had once again entered without knocking and caught her staring intensely at a letter, held at an angle, about a centimetre from her face; he even noticed that the tip of her tongue was poking precariously out of the corner of her mouth.

Hermione looked up, her tongue still poking out of her mouth and tilted her head slightly, letting her hands fall onto the desk in front of her. Before she could voice even a 'what?' Draco's face broke into a smirk, then a smile, then a full out grin, before he started laughing. He leant against the door, which fell back and closed, and he stopped laughing instantly as the slamming of the door reverberated around the library. Once the initial shock, Hermione herself started laughing, and when it faded, they stared at each other across the room in silence.

"I- I got a – a letter from – from Regulation and C – Control…" Hermione stuttered after a minute, holding up the letter. Draco walked closer and Hermione stood up, rounding the desk to hand him the parchment. "I got the job, but there was-"

Hermione was cut off as Draco read the letter himself, and looked up at her.

"Who the hell is T.F.W?"

Hermione shrugged. "No idea, but if they take the DNA test, everything will be fine. They won't hold the trial and it'll all be-"

"They can't use muggle things in a wizard court, Granger. You could try, but they won't make it count for anything, and we don't have that kind of thing… we can't do it legally, they banned the spell for some reason."

"Oh, Merlin's saggy left tit…" she murmured.

She left Draco chuckling by the desk before summoning a book on Wizarding Law and sitting down to study it. Deciding he had nothing better to do anyway, Draco sat down in the armchair he'd occupied weeks before, summoned his own book on law and studied alongside her.

* * *

><p>By the following Tuesday, Hermione and Draco knew enough about Wizarding Law to almost be a part of the Wizengamot themselves. At Draco's request, Hermione didn't wear her business skirt – which she generally wore to interviews – to the trial, but instead wore a dress similar to the one she'd worn in the gardens; a knee-length white dress with a small bow tied at the back of it. In court room four, there were two tables placed at the centre of the room, surrounded by stands, which were filled by only five people – Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, the latter holding a smiling Felicity, along with two women Hermione didn't recognise. Ron Weasley sat at the table on the left, alongside an unfamiliar man, and neither looked up as Hermione took a place at the lone seat at the table on the right. She looked up into the surrounding stands at Narcissa, who sent her a reassuring smile; Draco, who gave a small smile and nodded; and Felicity, who waved and beamed at her, letting out a small cry of 'mummy', just as a woman – who, when Draco gave a nod of affirmation, Hermione knew was Marsha Waters – and two others entered – a short plump man with a briefcase in his hand, beside a tall, elegant looking woman with greying hair and a small purse. Once the man and woman, along with Marsha, were seated, they each pulled parchment, quills and ink bottles out of their respective carry bags, and began writing, just as Marsha introduced the court, announcing the unfamiliar man beside Ron as Derek Jones, the strangers in the stands as Jane and Marie Caltha – sisters, by the look of things – and the man and woman beside Martha as Jonathon Ormlend and Dentity Ernys.<p>

"Now," Martha began. Dentity began writing hastily beside her. Hermione wondered briefly why she didn't just bewitch the quill to write for her. "We understand that Miss Granger is currently staying with the Malfoy family, who are present in this court room at the current time? Can you confirm this, Miss Granger?"

Hermione stood and nodded, then at a look from Draco, replied in the affirmative.

"We are also led to believe that your daughter, one Felicity Granger, is also living with the Malfoy family at present?"

Hermione, once again, replied with a yes.

One of the women from the stands – Jane – spoke up. "Do you happen to realise, Miss Granger, that Lucius Malfoy, and his present relatives, are convicted of aiding and abetting one Lord Voldemort during the Second Wizarding War?"

"Yes," Hermione replied once again.

"And yet you are willing to live with them, even after… certain events that occurred within the Manor? Surely you do not care so little for your daughter's life-"

"My daughter is perfectly safe at the Manor," Hermione interrupted, attempting to keep the anger from seeping into her tone. Draco, who seemed to have picked up on this, smirked from the stands. "The Malfoy's are not of any danger to her, and nor is-"

"Are you bloody insane?" Ron bellowed from his seat, standing up. "They're Death Eaters, of course they're a bloody danger to-"

"_Mister Weasley_," Marsha interrupted. "I'll thank you not to disrupt my court. Please sit down." Ron did so, albeit reluctantly "Now, Miss Granger, would you like to finish your sentence for us?"

"The Malfoy's are not dangerous," Hermione repeated. Narcissa sent her a smile from the stands. "They care for my daughter almost as much as I do myself. They'd never let any harm come to her if they could help it. They wouldn't let anyone or anything hurt her in the slightest unless they did their best to stop it."

"We've heard from a reliable source," Marsha said, and Hermione thought it had better not be one of Rita Skeeter's 'reliable sources'. "That you and Draco Malfoy were… rather spiteful to each other during your school years. Could you confirm this for us?"

"We weren't exactly best friends, no," Hermione said with a small smile, wish Marsha mirrored. "We were in different houses, and we associated with different people. The only times we spoke were when we were insulting each other, really."

"Can you confirm this for us, Mister Weasley?"

"Yes," Ron said, getting to his feet once more. "Hermione and I were friends during school, and Malfoy was a mutual enemy of ours."

Marsha nodded and read something off the piece of parchment in front of her. "So we are right to understand that Draco Malfoy is indeed _not _the father of Felicity?"

Ron looked at that moment like he wanted to shout 'no!' at the top of his lungs, and Hermione shook her head. "He's not the biological father, no."

"Is he a father figure for her, though?" Jane asked from the stands.

Hermione looked up at Draco, and Narcissa, who each gave almost imperceptible nods of their heads, Draco mouthing 'for now'.

Hermione nodded. "He's acting as the father figure for her for the time being."

"'For the time being'?" Marie repeated curiously. "Can you elaborate?

"For as long as I'm living with him and Narcissa, he'll be Felicity's temporary father."

"Miss Granger, are you aware that Mr Ormlend here is a child psychiatrist?"

"I am now," Hermione said, and Mr Ormlend and Marie chuckled.

Marsha smiled again and nodded. "Mr Ormlend, I understand you have something to say?"

The short, stubby man nodded, getting to his feet, and picked up one of the many sheets of parchment before him. "Alright, hello Miss Granger," he began. Hermione nodded in greeting. "Now, Miss Granger, we are all aware that you intend for Mister Malfoy to act as your daughter's father figure for the duration of your stay at the Manor, but you must understand that this could have drastic psychological effects upon her. Would I be right to assume that you have been raising her single-handedly up until you moved in with the Malfoy family?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"And upon arrival at the Manor, would I be right to assume that Felicity took well to young Mister Malfoy, and acted towards him as a daughter would her father?"

"Well, she did call him daddy at one stage, that's when Rita Skeeter showed up and made the article that you must have seen in the _Prophet_."

"Ah, yes, I believe I saw that. Rita has a reputation here at the Ministry for printing a few… misinformed stories, nothing to worry about."

Hermione smiled, nodding.

"Please may we get back on topic," Derek voiced from beside Ron, speaking for the first time.

"Yes, alright, Jones. Mister Ormlend, if you are finished, I'd like to continue please."

"Right, sorry. Miss Granger, I'm asking you, in the event that your daughter becomes too attached to Mister Malfoy, I would ask you leave her be and explain to her when she is older, otherwise it could have very negative effects on her life."

Hermione nodded once more and thanked him, and he took his seat once more.

"Now, Mister Weasley, what is your housing arrangement?"

Ron stood up, and Hermione sat down in her own seat. "Well, I live in the flat above my brother's store, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

"And your current relationship status is…?"

"Oh, I've been in a relationship with Romilda Vane for several months now."

"And she is aware that you and Miss Granger have had a child together?"

"I told her about it before we got together," he said. "She was perfectly fine with it."

Hermione was speaking before anyone was even aware she was on her feet.

"We have not had a child together! It's not even possible for him to be related to her, because I was in Australia when she was conceived!"

"What the hell are you talking about? She's four, and we were together four years ago! You stole my daughter from me, you lying, stinking-" Ron cut himself off in his anger, slamming his fist onto the table before him.

Before anyone could even respond, Narcissa jumped to her feet – still as graceful as ever – and leaned against the stands, pointing an accusing finger down at him. "You insolent little boy! Hermione is an honest, compassionate woman!" Draco attempted to pull her back into her seat, but Narcissa was relentless. "And for your information, young man, Felicity is only three years old, and from what I've heard, your relationship lasted two weeks after the war, which was almost four and a half years ago! Felicity is not yours, and she never will be if this court has even half a-"

"Mrs Malfoy!" Marsha cried, getting to her feet. "Please, sit down or we'll have to have you removed forcefully from this room!"

Narcissa looked like she wanted to continue yelling, but reluctantly sat down once more, looking annoyed and angry.

Marsha looked like she was about to speak, but Dentity checked a watch on her wrist and stood abruptly. "I think that we might have to postpone the meeting for another time, Mrs Waters. You've got a meeting soon."

"Oh, very well. The court is to be postponed to the next available time. We'll send you an owl to let you know when we'll meet again. There will also be letters sent to announce the times during which your house inspections will take place. You're all dismissed." Marsha said.

Just as Hermione got to her feet, however, Marsha spoke again. "Miss Granger, I'd like a word, please. Mister Malfoy!" she called out as Draco was leaving. He turned back, Felicity still in his arms, and looked at her. "I'd like a word with you too, if you please."

Draco handed Felicity over to Narcissa, whispered something to her, and made his way down the stairs to where Hermione was still sitting and placed a hand on the back of her chair. Hermione leaned back slightly in her chair, and his fingers brushed the bare skin on her back.

Once the rest of the court rooms occupants had left, Ron sending a glare at Hermione and Draco on his way out, Marsha herself made her way down to Hermione's table, pulling a chair across from the table Ron had sat at and sitting across from them.

"Hermione," she said. "I know I can't use it in the court as evidence – I wouldn't be able to if I was a representative either – but I've done a muggle DNA test, and I know Ronald is not the father."

"How the hell did you do a DNA test without getting Felicity's-?" Draco began.

Marsha simply waved her hand dismissively. "If you must know, your mother sent it. Just, look," she reached across the table and grasped Hermione's hand in both of hers. "I've seen cases like this before. I know that Ronald is not with Ms Vane, because she eloped a year ago with a friend of my son's, and has not been seen since. I've got no idea what his motivation is for trying to gain custody of Felicity, but I'll do everything in my power to see that she is not given to anyone but you, Hermione. I get the final say, and as I saw you two outside with Felicity, I know that you will definitely be my first choice, no matter what. At the very least, I'll be able to keep her in a Ministry foster home until I can prove your case. I'll see to it that you get to keep your daughter, even if it costs me my job."

"Oh, thank you so much, Marsha, I-"

"Hold up," Draco said. "You were talking to both of us."

"Well, yes, of course."

"You do know that we're not the parents, don't you? Or, at least, I'm not."

"There's no need to pretend now, Draco. I may be older than your mother, but I'm still as sharp as I was when I was your age; I know a couple when I see one."

"A coup-?"Hermione queried.

"Don't tell me you believed that story in the _Prophet_, Waters. I told you, the only bit of truth in it was my name, Granger's _first _name, the fact that she is the mother… and the picture is real too. That's it."

"Now, now, Draco," Marsha grinned, almost cheekily, at the pair of them. "I know you two are not married; that's another thing I'm talented at seeing. I just know, by the way you interact with both Felicity and each other that you're well into your relationship."

"We're barely even friends!" Hermione cried. She leaned back further against Draco's seat, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, both to restrain and calm her. Marsha noticed the hand and smirked knowingly, but before she could speak, there was a knock on the door.

"Mrs Waters, your meeting will start soon!" the voice of Dentity called through the closed door.

"Oh, well, I must be off." Marsha said, getting to her feet. "Draco, I expect those memos to be filled out and returned by Friday, and I'll owl you, Hermione. Your inspection will have to be scheduled last, of course, but Felicity will be returned to you in no time at all, I assure you."

Hermione jumped to her feet, flinging Draco's hand away and following Marsha to the door. "Return-? What do you _mean _she will be returned? You're taking her?"

"Didn't I mention that? Oh well, another time then," and without another word, Marsha Waters left the room. Hermione turned slowly to face Draco, who was still close to the table and wiped frantically at her teary eyes. He took a few hesitant steps forward until he was directly in front of her and she looked up into his eyes.

"Why is everyone trying to take my happiness away?" she whimpered weakly, and before he could respond, she threw herself into his arms and buried her face against his chest, clutching at his shirt with her fists. After a moment's hesitation, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around her and did nothing but hold her as she cried.

* * *

><p><strong>An: ****Oh... my... deadwizardgod. XD What do you think?**

**Nyeeuuh... I need help. These are important questions, so _please_ answer them... _please._**

**Is this going to quickly, do you think? Is too much time passing between chapters? Is there relationship forming too fast? Am I repeating myself a lot? Should I slow it down?**

**Is Draco too nice? Is Hermione too emotional? Am I neglecting Lissy's presence as much as I think I am?**

**More importantly: does it seem realistic? Like, the trials and the people and the information? I'm aiming for authenticity, but I don't have a realistic grasp of these kinds of situations, just what I've seen on TV. XD**

**I really need answers, guys. I will give you fifty imaginary pies if you answer, I swear!**

**Anyway... I'm trying to make the chapters longer and give you more content, because... it's exam-y time for me, and I don't want to leave you with a tiny weeny chapter and not update for a week. I'm aiming for at least 4000 to 6000 words a chapter now, and I'm _really _trying to further develop the story line.**

_**Please, my lovely readers, review and answer my questions. Remember; R&R&L.**_

**I will love you forever!**

**~Originalitys.**

******P.S. I might be starting a new story soon... probably when I've gotten further into this one, though. But I have a brilliant idea for a Hogwarts Era story... and a Next-Gen, come to think of it. Dammit, now I have ideas for other things. **

**REVIEW, QUICK, AND GET ME BACK ON TRACK!**

**...this is a really long A/n... lol.**


	18. Advice and Assistance

Narcissa found Hermione and Draco standing together 20 minutes later, not having moved from their position since Marsha left. Hermione had stopped crying after about 10 minutes, but she couldn't seem to muster up the energy to remove herself from Draco's arms, although she had, at some point, managed to loop her arms around his neck and rest her head against his collarbone. After the initial shock of seeing them in an embrace subsided, Narcissa stepped further into the room and placed a hand on one of her son's arms, which were wrapped around Hermione's waist, his hands resting on the small of her back, and she looked up into his face.

Hermione didn't seem to have noticed her presence yet, so she remained leaning against Draco until Narcissa placed a hand tentatively on her shoulder and pulled her away from her son. Hermione slid her hands down and away from Draco's neck and wrapped them around herself, as if she was trying to physically hold herself together, and turned to Narcissa, who reached up silently to wipe a stray tear from her cheek with her thumb and rest her palm against it. She smiled weakly at her.

"They took her, didn't they?" Hermione said, her voice cracking from lack of use.

Narcissa nodded. "Once I left the court room. They told me they were taking her to check that she was healthy and well cared for, but before I came back to find you, I saw one of the Ministry's foster care workers carrying her off. I tried to stop them, but they told me not to interfere with Ministry business. I'm so sorry, Hermione. I did the best I could."

"Thank you," Hermione replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she held back her tears and anger at the Ministry.

"I'm sure we can talk to Marsha-"

"Waters is the one behind it," Draco said.

Narcissa removed her hand from Hermione's face and looked, at that moment, as if she wanted to slap someone.

"Don't try anything, Mother. There's nothing we can do." Draco said, seeing her expression. "We just have to wait for Marsha to win us the case, and if Felicity has to go to foster care for a while, then… there's nothing we can do," he repeated.

Hermione's legs seemed to fail her then, and Draco reached out just in time to catch her before she fell to the floor. He placed an arm around her waist to keep her steady and looked down at her.

"I want to go home…" she told him. He nodded.

* * *

><p>They made their way to the lifts, slowly at first because Draco was pulling Hermione along with him, and people began staring as they reached the Atrium. Whispers followed them to the fireplace – which Narcissa disappeared through as they reached it – and before Draco could throw a handful of powder into it, someone called out from behind them and Draco turned to look over Hermione's head, and was promptly blinded by a large flash.<p>

"Mister and Mrs Malfoy, how do you feel now that your child has been taken? How does it feel to have lost a second child to the Ministry, Draco?"

Hermione used what little strength she had to pull him into the fireplace in front of them and throw in some Floo Powder, but not before he could tell the reporter behind them, "I only ever lost one child to this place, and I will never lose another." And then they were spinning in the centre of green flames and stepping out of the fireplace into Hermione's room.

* * *

><p>Hermione fell, weak, against Draco's side and he shook himself free of his anger and held her up to carry her to her bed.<p>

She sat down on the edge and waited until he sat down to fall against his shoulder. When he made no move to push her off or stand again, she stayed there. Draco shifted to make it more comfortable and resisted the strange sudden urge to lean his head over hers. _What the bloody hell…_

"Thank you," Hermione said. "For what you did back there."

"Don't mention it, Granger."

There was a comfortable silence between the pair, before Hermione spoke.

"You've changed, you know, since we were in school… you would have laughed at me back then. I was kind of surprised when you didn't."

When Draco was silent, she continued.

"What was that reporter talking about… you know, when he asked what it was like to lose a second child?"

Draco shrugged with one shoulder, careful not to disrupt Hermione. "I don't know what he was talking about," he lied. "Lissy's the first kid I've lost to the Ministry, and she's not even mine, so…" he shrugged again.

"Liar…" Hermione murmured; Draco chose to ignore her.

They sat in another comfortable silence for another few minutes, before there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Draco called out when Hermione was silent. He had the sneaking suspicion she was close to falling asleep, because she jolted slightly at his voice.

Narcissa opened the door, took one look at the two figures on the bed and smiled.

_Maybe that portrait is right..._

"Would you two like to join me for lunch, or do you want me to send it up here for you?" she asked.

Hermione looked around the room, caught sight of Felicity's crib in the corner and sat up off Draco's shoulder quickly. She got wearily to her feet, and Draco reached up, despite himself, to catch her at the waist as she stumbled, and stood up himself.

"Are you alright?" he asked her quietly.

She nodded, pointing at the crib so that Narcissa couldn't see. "It's just… that."

Draco nodded in understanding and Hermione stepped away from him, around the bed, and towards the door. "I think… I'll have lunch with you."

Narcissa smiled. "Come on," she held up her arm and Hermione stepped forward to loop hers through it. "We'll go and have it in the gardens." Narcissa began to lead them through the door, but stopped and turned back to look at Draco, who was still in the middle of the room, watching them. "Coming, dear?"

He nodded, and gestured for them to go ahead before following them out of the room. He had just closed the door behind him, Narcissa and Hermione already turning at the top of the stairs, when the portrait of the woman outside Hermione's room spoke.

"Why don't you marry her?" she asked.

Draco turned to face her and raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"That Hermione Granger girl, of course! Your mother obviously approves of her, and your father is in no position to-"

"I've told you before not to mention my father."

"Yes, well, he's in no position to argue, and I know full well you and your dear mother never agreed with his ways, so why not just marry the girl?"

Draco gaped at her slightly, trying to keep composure. "Me? Marry Hermione? You're kidding. We're practically enemies!"

"Enemies that call each other by their given names and who spend large amounts of time together in secluded areas…? I hardly think so," the portrait looked slightly smug as she spoke.

"Does it make a difference what we call each other? It doesn't mean we like each other. And what in Merlin's name do you mean by secluded areas?" Draco took a step closer and crossed his arms.

"The library… and her bedroom, now that I think of it; you do visit her a lot while she's doing other things. Don't think I don't talk to the other portraits, young man."

"You can hardly call me young man, Vassy," Draco replied. "You're 24."

"In this portrait, yes, but I'll have you know: I've been in said portrait for at least 600 years, so that makes you a young man. And don't call me Vassy."

"I've been calling you Vassy since I was nine, _Vassy; _because you wanted me to, so don't complain."

Vassy huffed and crossed her arms. "Yes, well, we're getting off topic. I still think you should marry the girl."

"You thought I should marry Pansy; and Daphne and Astoria, come to think of it."

"That was before I discovered they were manky pure-blooded bints!"

"So you want me to marry Granger just because she's _not _pure-blooded?"

"Partially; she's also a charmingly intellectual young lady, she's very beautiful and she hasn't tried to set fire to my portrait or my room yet, like that blasted Daphne character," Vassy shuddered at the memory, glaring out the portrait at someone Draco couldn't see.

"Daphne only tried to set fire to you because you actually called her a manky pure-blooded bint," Draco laughed. Vassy glared at him, and he stopped.

"Well, she is one, so I was well within my rights. Besides, that's not who we're talking about. I like this Granger girl, and I think you should marry her."

"I'm not going to bloody marry her!"

"Not yet, anyway."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Draco sighed. "If you're done trying to get me to marry another girl, I think I'll go join her and my mother for lunch. It's been nice talking, Vassy. What's it been, three years? Four?"

"Seven, Draco. You've not spoken, nor looked at me, since you were in your fifth year at Hogwarts," Vassy looked very much pleased that she had spoken to him, but annoyed that she had been ignored for seven years.

"Ah, well, let's not wait that long to speak again, shall we?" Draco asked, though he didn't have any intention of speaking to her for at least another decade, and began to walk away.

"As soon as you're a portrait, Draco, there will be no escape from me. We will talk for centuries!" Vassy called after him, chasing him through neighbouring portraits.

"Yes," he said to her as she passed through the portrait of a knight, who bowed to her. He obviously didn't know the story of her life. "We'll talk all about how I never married Granger, nor any other girl that chanced upon the manor. We'll spend eternity discussing all the 'should haves', 'could haves' and 'would haves' of my life, while I sit in my portrait as the last Malfoy. Oh, forget that did you?" he asked at her shocked expression. "Yes, I'm the only living Malfoy heir, and I don't plan on marrying anyone any time soon, nor at all." He reached the bottom of the staircase, and turned to face the portrait of some animals, which had scattered at the sight of Vassy. "I'm not getting married, Vassy, so we can spend eternity in this empty house talking about all the people I could have married. I'm sure it will be a wonderful experience."

Vassy stared at him, shocked, and appalled, beyond belief. "You can't end the Malfoy line! We've been around for centuries!"

"So we don't need to continue any longer," Draco shrugged. "Why does it matter to you? You're always going to be a permanently stuck portrait outside the door of a room people rarely use for fear of catching something _muggle_. No Malfoy will talk to you out of shame."

"Not if you're their father. Not if you tell them my story."

"For Merlin's sake, Vassy, you were nearly sorted into Hufflepuff! You're in the blasted history books as the only Malfoy who ever came close to being something other than a Slytherin!"

"What has that got to do with my story? I was a Slytherin in the end, so it holds no value! Your father already bought shame upon this family when he failed that Dark Lord of yours, and your mother and you bought further embarrassment by associating with muggles and muggle-borns. What difference does it make what I did? I'll tell you now, it was 600 years ago that I lived, so what difference does it-"

"That's not the point. You were the first to do so, and we at least kept our interactions secret until Voldemort was defeated. You openly disgraced the family at the first opportunity, and you sealed your own death by doing so!"

"I was _not _the first Malfoy to ever go against our pure-blood beliefs! My own mother didn't care much for pure-bloods, she was as smart as I; we both knew we'd descended from muggles somewhere along the line. My mother's great grandfather was actually a muggle! And I'll have you know that _my mother _was a Gryffindor! She only claimed to be in Slytherin to marry my father, and they were in love! Love! That's right, a Malfoy with emotions!"

"Vassy," Draco said, crossing his arms again as he tapped his foot impatiently. "I don't care if your parents were in love. Mine are too. I don't care if your great, great whatever was a muggle. My point is, you openly loved a muggle, not to mention during the time when they were _burning witches for being witches, _and you ended up being killed. It's a good thing you had a brother, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation. He saved the family, you know. He convinced that village that you were the only magical being in the whole damn place, even though there were at least forty other Wizarding families there. He saved an entire village, probably half the Wizarding world, after your stupid mistake."

"What does it matter? After what he did, you've just decided that you're going to make what your namesake did seem like a stupid idea. Which it was anyway, because he was killed by the muggles not long after, even though he saved a bunch of them from a burning building..."

"He's not my namesake," Draco said. "But that's irrelevant. He wasn't killed by muggles, he was killed _saving them_. That's also irrelevant. I'm not going to marry anyone unless I choose to, Vassy, and I'm not choosing to do so at all."

"You like her though," Vassy said, giving up on arguing. She failed to see the point of arguing Pavo's life any more. "This Hermione girl, you like her."

"I don't like her," Draco replied instantly; almost too quickly. "I just don't hate her, that's all."

"What happened to enemies?"

"I changed my mind."

"Convinced you, have I?"

"You've barely mentioned her."

"Never mind; I still think you should marry her."

"Why are you so intent upon getting me to marry her? Is it really because you want me to follow in your footsteps and not marry a pure-blood witch, or is it because you can actually see us being together happily?" Draco demanded. He was beginning to get annoyed with Vassy, and he was really quite hungry, so he wanted to go to lunch as soon as he possibly could. _If only she'd shut up about Hermione!_

"Oh, Draco," Vassy sighed. "I can hardly see you being happy with anyone. But if anyone could change that, it's Hermione. She's positively lovely. And I know you'll follow in my footsteps anyway. You've got the same qualities as I had when I was alive. You'll marry a muggle-born… or even a muggle. It may not be Hermione – though I truly hope it is, because I adore her, although we haven't spoken – but it will be someone like her. She suits you perfectly, Draco. If you can't see that now, you'll see it eventually. I do so hope it won't be too late by then though."

"Hermione doesn't suit me perfectly. She doesn't suit me at all. I'm not even going to ask why you adore her, or how you can adore someone you've never spoken to."

"You like her," Vassy said, in much the same way a friend would say to a friend about a crush.

"I don't bloody like her, I told you that."

"You're still replying too quickly, Draco. I thought you were a Slytherin. You're supposed to be cunning and good at lying. Frankly, right now, you suck."

"…says the dead woman in the middle of a paddock."

"Irrelevant. You do like her, and you know you do. Deny it as much as you want, but there is attraction there, and sooner or later there's going to be tension."

"There already is tension," Draco replied shortly, ignoring her comment about attraction. "We've already wanted to kill each other for seven years, and now it's incredibly awkward because she's an emotional wreck and we haven't spoken at all in the past four years. That's the only tension there is, and ever will be."

"What about when you become friends?"

"We won't be friends."

"You will be."

"We won't."

"You will."

"Not."

"Draco."

"Vassy."

"You're going to love her."

"I will never love her. She's Granger."

"And that automatically destroys any chance of you ever loving her?"

"Yes."

"I don't think so."

"You don't think at all. You're dead."

"Real mature, Draco… You're a master of retaliation."

"And you're a master of annoyance. I will never be friends with Granger, I will never love Granger, I will never marry Granger and I will never continue the Malfoy line, _especially not with Granger._ I'll tell you what I will do though. I'm going to go and have lunch," he left out the 'with Granger' this time, "and then I'm going to go to work. Goodbye, Vassy." Draco turned, once again, to walk down the hall to the gardens, but stopped when Vassy called out again, causing him to turn around to look at her, standing in the last portrait at the base of the staircase.

"Would it make a difference if I said she likes you?"

"Hermione doesn't like me," Draco said simply.

"Then why is yours the name she moans in her sleep?" Vassy worked hard to keep the smile off her face as she questioned him.

"I suspect it's because she's complaining that I'm not standing still enough to kill."

"Oh, I hardly think they're those kind of moans," Vassy said, and before Draco had a chance to respond, she was gone, laughing on her way at the expression on Draco's face when she had lied. _Serves him right for calling me Vassy…_

She smiled to herself as she returned to her portrait. She _loved_ being a portrait, it was so much fun.

* * *

><p>Draco made his way out to the gardens, silently mulling over the conversation with Vassy, and summoned a Firewhiskey for himself as he took a seat at the outdoor table on the veranda. <em>She moans my name in her sleep? She moans it as in <em>that_ kind of moan? No way; not possible._

"Everything alright, Draco?" Narcissa asked.

"Fine," he replied.

Hermione gave him a quizzical look, and shared one with Narcissa, but neither of them asked again, instead choosing to continue their conversation from before he had arrived.

"So, Hermione, are you sure you don't want me to speak for you at the next trial?"

"Narcissa, I appreciate the thought, but… they might think your opinion is bias towards me, and I don't want you to waste your breath. I really think…"

Draco never heard what Hermione thought, however, because he zoned out completely as he watched a peacock run across the gardens. It reminded him of Lissy, who'd imitated one not a week ago, and he recalled the conversation with Hermione about family. His hand slipped into his pocket, to the crinkled piece of paper, and he was once again reminded of his own family. His name drew him back to the present, however, and he looked up as his mother spoke.

"Draco? What do you think?"

Momentarily confused, Draco deduced they were still discussing the same thing, and answered accordingly. "Granger already spoke to me about this. I agree with her… kind of. They can't let anything outside the court influence them, so the fact that she lives with us would remain irrelevant, but that's never stopped them before, so I don't know how effective it would be for you to speak for her."

"We're not talking about me speaking, Draco. Honestly, pay attention. We want you to pretend to be Hermione's partner so that they see she has a stable home. What do you think?" Narcissa asked again.

"You want us to pretend to – what? – be together, after we told the court we're not together at all?"

"Yes," Narcissa replied shortly.

"It – It doesn't matter if you don't want to do it. Like I said about you being her father… it's…. just an idea," Hermione told him, seeing his thoughtful expression.

To her, it looked like he was trying to figure out a way to best insult her and her idea at the same time, but in reality, he was thinking something entirely different.

"What's the backstory to our sudden change of heart?" Draco asked. Draco had no idea why he was agreeing to it. _It's because of what Vassy said, is all. Just curious as to whether or not it's the truth._ That was a good enough excuse. Or at least he thought so.

"Why not, it – wait, you're agreeing?" Narcissa asked, slightly gobsmacked. Draco nodded impatiently. "Oh, well, Hermione can explain. It's her idea after all."

Hermione was as shocked as Narcissa at his agreement, but continued anyway. "Well, I just thought that we can use what they said to our advantage. I know that Rita and a few others went on about our undying love for each other, so… well we can't do that, obviously… but we could say we saw sense in the idea, saw how they portrayed us and how it seemed to work, and decided to give it a go. That's what I thought, anyway. Narcissa had the idea that we could… what was it?" Hermione turned to Narcissa.

"You could use your previous losses as a rope, I suppose, tying you to each other. You've each lost a child to someone else, so you found solace in one another."

Hermione still had no idea what all the 'lost child' business was about, but she figured she'd learn about it soon enough. She just hoped she would be experiencing the same loss as Draco supposedly had. All she wanted was Lissy back.

"Maybe we should do both," Draco said, interrupting her thoughts.

"What do you mean?" Narcissa queried.

Draco shrugged. "Let's say we've realised we both lost a child, so we uh… found comfort in each other because of that, and we realised after a while that the stories they put in the paper aren't so far-fetched."

Hermione thought for a moment, considering it, but Narcissa already seemed to have agreed. She beamed at Draco and Hermione, and Draco had a fleeting thought that, if she were a different person, she would have been bouncing in her seat.

"But how are we going to show that, though?" Draco asked. "We can't go from screaming at the judge that we're not even friends, even though she doesn't believe it, to… I don't know, making out in the middle of the room."

"We are _not _going to do any making out." Hermione said at once. "We're going to do it gradually. We'll just start off like… we've each got a crush, or something. We'll send each other fleeting glances across rooms, brush hands as we pass, that sort of thing, so that other people can see what's happening. But we have to act like we don't know what they're talking about."

Draco pondered it for a moment, and then nodded. "That should work… well, it will if your lying skills improve, that is."

Hermione glared at him, but said nothing.

"So that's settled then?" Narcissa asked. "You two will start doing things like that when you're in public?"

Draco and Hermione nodded, and at that moment the food appeared in front of them, and they all continued to eat in silence, though Narcissa seemed to continually glance between the other two diners, who sent each other questioning glances, wondering what she was doing.

An hour later, Hermione received an owl while wandering a maze in the gardens, and she screamed so loudly for Draco that she barely heard the scuttling of the animals as they ran away from her in every direction. Draco, who had been tending to business in the East Wing of the Manor, the furthest from the gardens Hermione was in, heard her scream, and apparated to the edge of the maze she was currently exiting from. Narcissa, who had been in the library, did the same not a moment later and Hermione ran to them, thrusting the letter into Draco's outstretched hand and stumbling to regain herself. Draco reached out his other hand to steady her, and she latched onto it as if she were afraid she was going to fall straight through the centre of the Earth. Draco, ignoring Hermione's deathly grip on his arm, read the letter aloud so his mother could hear.

"_Dear Miss Granger,_

_We have scheduled the next trial for the coming Friday – the 25__th__ – at 1pm. If you are unable to attend, please reply promptly and we will reschedule for a more appropriate time. Your daughter has been placed, for the time being, in the custody of one of the Ministry's foster care programs, and she, along with the family, will be present at the trial. We require Narcissa and Draco Malfoy to attend, as they will be required to speak, and we have deduced that, as you are currently housing with them, it would be more efficient for you to inform them of this request. If either of them is unable to appear for questioning, please reply promptly so we can reschedule. We also ask that, during the trial, you do not attempt to speak to your daughter, as the child psychiatrist that was present at our last trial, Mr Jonathon Ormlend, has informed us that any interaction would be traumatic for a child in Felicity's position._

_We hope you have a lovely day,_

_Kind regards,_

_Marsha Waters_

_Department of Management of Wizarding Families_

_Ministry of Magic_"

Narcissa snatched the letter from his slowly clenching hand and read it over herself, ignoring Hermione and Draco as he struggled to get her to release his arm. She did so, slowly, and fell against him weakly, clenching his shirt in her hands.

"They're taking Felicity to the trials, but they won't let you talk to her?" Narcissa asked, glaring at the letter. The phrase 'if looks could kill' formed in Draco's mind as she looked up at him, still glaring, but it faded quickly as she scrunched up the letter in her fist.

Hermione nodded and stumbled slightly as she stood up straight. She stared at the crumpled letter in Narcissa's fist and noticed the familiar writing from the letter of her employment on the back of it. T.F.W had written to her again.

Draco seemed to see this too as he let her stand on her own and he reached out and took the paper from his mother's hand. He unfurled it slowly and turned it over, to the side not written on by Marsha Waters, and read it out loud again.

"_Granger, we've got a problem. Someone is informing that reporter Skeeter that you and Ron are battling for custody of Felicity, and Skeeter is running a story about it after your next trial. I'm going to try and talk her out of it, or at least see if I can find out who her source is. Her assistant doesn't know either, but I'll try and get her to find out. Don't worry about Felicity, though. The family they've put her with are great. She'll be safe with them. Whatever you do, don't get anyone else involved in the trials, not even your old friend, Harry Potter. It isn't safe to tell other people any more, they might be in contact with whoever is talking to Skeeter. I'll keep you posted. T.F.W._"

"I really want to know who this T.F.W. person is," Hermione muttered when he finished. "It's probably a codename for something. Like… The Furtive Writer."

"That has to be the lamest codename I've ever heard," Draco said. "Partly because it doesn't even count as a codename."

"Whatever," Hermione muttered.

'That's not important," Narcissa said. "The important thing is the trial on Friday and why they want us to speak."

"Probably to figure out what the situation is like for us here. They'll want to know what our relationships are like, how we spend our time, and how we interact with each other around Lissy," Draco said. Narcissa nodded her agreement and they continued to stare in silence. Draco re-crumpled the letter and stared at it.

"I don't want to do it anymore," Hermione said suddenly, staring at the ground.

"Do what, Hermione?" Narcissa asked, looking from the letter in her son's fist to the blue-sundress clad girl standing beside him.

"This, all of it. I just want to go back to my old house outside London with Lissy and stay there forever. I don't want to have to worry about custody trials or faking a relationship or worrying about my daughter in foster care with a Ministry that was under Voldemort's control a few years ago. I want to go back to when my biggest worry was being a too-young single mother who had no idea what she was doing. I want to go back to before I had all these problems."

"Hermione, dear, it'll be alright…" Narcissa tried.

Hermione shook her head. "You don't know that. Nobody knows that."

"But Marsha's going to win this trial for you," Narcissa said.

"She can try, but she's got to do what she sees is best, and if I don't pass those investigations better than Ron, I have no chance of ever seeing Lissy again."

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head, dropping the letter and stepping between his mother and Hermione to grasp the latter by the shoulders, looking down into her face. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Granger," he said. She still didn't look at him. "Granger, look at me."

She sighed and looked up into his silver-grey eyes; suddenly realising they looked a lot like silver mercury, confined between white and black. "What?" she asked.

"I don't trust Waters one bit, but I know what she's capable of. If anyone can get you custody of Lissy, results of the investigations be damned, it's her."

"But she'll lose her job," Hermione argued.

Draco shrugged. "Who cares? If she does, you'll at least get your daughter back."

"I don't want her to lose her job!"

"You'd rather Waters kept the job she's wanted to quit for the past five years than keep your own child out of the hands of a Weasley who's less experienced at parenting than a bloody rock?"

Hermione bit her lower lip and shook her head, looking down at her bare feet on the grass. She wiggled her toes slightly and sighed. "I want both."

"You can't _have _both, Granger." Draco told her firmly. "It's Waters' job or Lissy. One or the other; take your pick." He paused. "There's no guarantee she'll lose her job anyway."

"I want both," Hermione repeated, though with less volume and conviction.

"Granger."

Hermione looked up at him then, fiery melted chocolate to blazing silver mercury, and glared. "I want both, Malfoy! Dammit, I want both! I want Lissy back with me, I want Marsha to keep her job and I want to get the hell out of England and never come back!"

Not at all shocked at her outburst, unlike Narcissa, Draco tightened his hold on her shoulders, just slightly, and spoke his next sentence calmly. "Then fight for it."

With those four words, Hermione's anger disappeared completely, and she continued to stare up into his eyes, her glare fading, and then vanishing entirely. Somehow, he'd managed to force from her a thought that she didn't seem to want to think. She knew she wanted everything to go back to normal, to how it was before she really came back, but she didn't want to have to work for it. She'd worked too hard already, for her entire life, and she just wanted to give up. Not on Lissy, never, just on fighting for things to go her way. She wanted people to do what she wanted so she could live a peaceful life again. She didn't want any more fighting, and Draco knew this, but he also knew that, this time, like it was for him, it was her only option. Despite this though, her next words were not what he wanted to hear.

"I can't," she whispered, and she looked away once more, back down to her feet.

"You can, Granger, and you know it."

"I can't, Malfoy. I can't fight. I'm sick of fighting. I want something to happen _just because_, not because I've had to fight for it. I've done enough fighting to last me forever!"

"Isn't she worth it?" Draco asked calmly, quietly. A memory flashed briefly behind his eyes as he blinked; of his mother, standing before him, her hand on his, whispering a similar thing to what he'd just said to Hermione to him. _Isn't he worth it?_ Before he could think more on it, he returned to the present, with Hermione standing before him, tears falling slowly down her cheeks, dripping from her jaw, and falling onto the grass as she put her head down with her eyes closed.

"Of course she's worth it," Hermione whispered back, her anger fading once more.

They'd long forgotten Narcissa was still standing behind him, and their voices had taken on softer tones, and Narcissa continued to watch and listen in silence. Her son was nearly convincing Hermione of the things she'd tried, long ago, to convince him of, and was currently doing a better job than she ever had. If she remained silent, she thought, perhaps Hermione would be convinced like Draco never had been.

He tilted his head down, like hers, and stared at his feet, his arms sliding off her shoulders to her forearms.

"Then why not fight for her?" he whispered.

"I want to, but I can't…"Hermione replied quietly.

"You can."

"Not by myself."

"With help, then."

Hermione lifted her gaze, finally, and met his as he looked down at her. There was something in his eyes – something like guilt; regret, even. "From whom?" she asked. "Who's going to help me do this, if no one knows what it's like?"

Draco was silent. _Do I really want to go through it again, just for Granger?_ He thought, briefly, that if he had to go through it again for anyone, Granger was the least likely candidate. But reality decided to slap him in the face. _She's going through it _now_,_ _you moron. She needs your help._ He didn't know, though, if he could cope with it. _If you can't, do you think she can? _The logical part of his brain asked. _Of course she can't, dumbass! You have to help her! You're the only one that can!_

Draco let out a barely-audible sigh and gave Hermione a weak smile, which she returned, albeit a little warily.

"I know what it's like," he admitted quietly, lowering his head so their foreheads were nearly touching, so she could hear him. She briefly appeared to have one eye. _Oh, Salazar's panties, why am I doing this? _He thought. _Too late now, Draco, _his brain responded instantly. _Fuck, _was his instantaneous reply. _Just do it, already!_

Giving up on mentally arguing with himself, he pulled back slightly so he could look her squarely in _both_ eyes, and squeezed her arms in what he hoped was a reassuring way. He took a calming breath for himself, and let out a whisper.

"I'll help you."

* * *

><p><strong>An: Daaawwww... XD**

**Believable? Anyone curious as to who TFW is, and who's ratting to Skeeter? What about Vassy? Wondering what her story is, what part she plays in this tale? So am I, to be honest, but I'll think of something. :P What does Draco not want to go through with? What did Narcissa try to convince him of? WHY IS HE HELPING HER?**

**GUESS, PEOPLE. MAKE SOME GUESSES. DO IT. I might even put some in there!**

**As always, R&R&L dearies, and I'll... try and update soon. I've got a good idea for CHAPTER TWENTY... but I need to do Chapter 19 first. XD**

**Excerpt from Twenty to keep you interested? I think so:**

_"Hey!" Draco protested. "I was only eleven. I was young and impressionable, and I wanted to know more about the house than anyone, because… well… I was an arrogant little prat."_

_"You still are," Hermione deadpanned._

_Draco scoffed. "I'm not little."_

_At this, Hermione laughed. "You're still an arrogant prat, though. I can't believe you thought Harry would be your friend."_

_"I had him planned as more of a follower than a friend; kind of like what Crabbe and Goyle were. Although… he was kind of scrawny, so he might have been more useful as a messenger of some sort."_

_Hermione sent one of the_ **[nottellingwhatitis]**_ straight into his face, stopping it just before it reached his nose, and he jolted back in shock. She chuckled and it returned to the rest of its _**[nottellingthisbiteither]**_ companions, which were now moving in a slow figure eight._

_"Shit, Granger," Draco moved slowly to sit up properly again. "Are you trying to burn off my eyebrows?"_

__**WOOP.**

**Do something. Guess. WHAT DID SHE SEND FLYING INTO HIS FACE?**

**lol, you won't find out for like a week. That's so funny. I'm sorry, I'm mean, but I love you, really. Well, I will if you review. :P**

**I'll update soon, though... at least I'll try!**

**~Originalitys.**


	19. Trials and Troubling Tales

Friday came around without event, although Hermione realised that, since their discussion near the maze, Draco had been preoccupied with business elsewhere whenever she left her room, which was quite frequently, as she couldn't bear to see any of Felicity's belongings if their owner was far away. She'd requested, on Tuesday night, that she be moved to a different room, but Draco had insisted, before he disappeared, that she learn to accept that Lissy was temporarily absent from the house. She wanted to argue, again, that she didn't want to do it, but he seemed to sense this and he gripped her tightly on the arms, just above her elbows, and stared into her eyes.

"_Hermione," _he had said. _"You cannot give up this easily. Lissy isn't gone for good, you know that, so let all of what's in there" _he gestured to the door to her room, which was behind her._ "Remind you that she will be coming back."_

Hermione had stared back at him, and then she nodded, understanding. She knew she was overreacting, but it was hard. _"I just can't believe she's not here. This is the first night I've spent away from her since she was born. It feels so wrong not to kiss her goodnight and tell her I love her,"_ she had replied, giving in to her urge to look down.

"_I know," _Draco had told her, and he did know. Oh, man, did he _know_. _"But she knows you love her more than anything. She'll be back before you know it, Granger." _And with that, he'd given her arms a gentle squeeze, smirked and let her go, turning and heading into his own room, where she didn't think he'd left since.

She met him and Narcissa in the parlour where they'd first spoken at around ten to one on Friday – she was again wearing a simple sundress – light pink this time – and Draco had nodded curtly before stepping into the emerald green flames of the fireplace and disappearing with a shout of "Ministry of Magic!"

"How are we supposed to pretend to like each other if he won't even stay in the same room as me?" Hermione asked, not expecting an answer.

"He's had a lot of business to attend to," Narcissa explained. "He'll still follow the plan at the Ministry, though, so don't worry."

Hermione simply nodded, and Flooed to the Ministry, Narcissa following behind her.

The courtroom was set up the same as the last trial, aside from a chair in the centre of the room, and Hermione took her usual seat at the right-hand-side table, which had two extra chairs for Narcissa and Draco. Draco sat in the middle, between Hermione and Narcissa, who were on the inside edge and outside edge of the table respectively. Hermione wondered briefly why she hadn't seen any of the Weasley's at the trials, but she figured that they might come to one eventually – she didn't know how many they were going to hold, anyway. She attempted to avoid looking up into the stands, but a cry of 'mummy' caused her head to jolt upwards. Felicity was there, with a man and a woman Hermione didn't recognize who had to be at least forty, in a small, puffy yellow dress and a bright pink hat. _She looks ridiculous! _Hermione thought.

Feeling tears start to form at the sight of her daughter, Hermione welcomed the arrival of Marsha, Jonathon, Jane, Marie and Dentity through a door above and to the left of her. The door stayed open for a moment after the last person walked in; a moment, Hermione noted, that was a little too long.

Marsha introduced the trial as normal, including, Hermione noticed, Harry Potter, who was sitting next to Ron on the opposite side of the room. Hermione had failed to notice his presence, as she was so intent on not catching sight of her daughter. Hermione also noticed, a little late, that Derek Jones was still present, even though he had failed to speak during the last trial except to get it to go faster. She couldn't believe that the guy was still turning up after doing nothing.

Skipping the usual pleasantries, Marsha called the first person to the chair in the centre of the room: Harry James Potter. He got up from Ron's table and made his way to the chair between it and Hermione's table, staring up at something to the left of Marsha. He avoided looking at Hermione, and she was glad. She didn't think she could hide the betrayal she felt at him speaking against her. For the first time in their lives, Harry had taken a side; he'd chosen between his two best friends.

_But he has a right to after you disappeared_, the logical part of her brain told her.

She ignored it, for once. It still felt like betrayal.

"Mister Potter," Jane asked. "Would you please explain to us your relationship with Miss Granger and Mister Weasley?"

Used to being questioned, Harry shrugged. "They were both close friends of mine during school, but I lost contact with Hermione for a few years after the war. Ron works with me as an Auror, as you know, but… well, I haven't spoken to Hermione much lately. I've seen her… once… in the past month, aside from today."

Hermione didn't think it counted as _seeing_ if you never looked at someone.

"Can you, Mister Potter, verify that Mister Weasley is the biological father of Hermione Granger's child?"

"No," Harry said. "But… well, I wouldn't know. I only know that they had a short relationship a few years ago, and then Hermione disappeared. She could be Ron's, but I wouldn't know. I didn't even know she'd had a child until I saw that article in the _Daily Prophet_, and I know she can't be Malfoy's kid. Hermione would never betray us like that."

At the word 'betray' Hermione nearly scoffed, Draco actually did, and Marsha gave Harry a strange look. She was probably just curious. Before she could ask anything, however, someone else spoke.

"Mister Potter," Jonathon Ormlend asked from Marsha's side. "In your opinion, do you think that Ronald Weasley would make a suitable parent for Felicity Granger, should we choose to give him custody of her?"

"Well, yes, I think he would. He sometimes looks after my godson, Teddy, and he's always good with him, so I don't see why Felicity would be any different."

"Thank you, Mister Potter." Jane said when no one else asked any questions. "That will be all."

Harry nodded, stood up from the chair, and exited the courtroom entirely, not looking at anyone as he left. Being the only near-family member to ever come with Ron to the trials, Hermione thought that he might stay, but apparently she was wrong. Harry probably didn't like taking sides, after all. Suddenly feeling guilty, Hermione looked after him as he left, and neither she, nor anyone else in the court room noticed the random flash of red to the left of Marsha's head that appeared in mid-air and quickly vanished once again, and none of them heard the slight gasp as Marsha spoke.

"Narcissa Malfoy, would you please make your way to the chair in the middle?" she asked. Narcissa did so, pausing slightly to put her hand on Hermione's shoulder as she passed by. Hermione smiled up at her and Narcissa took her seat.

"Mrs Malfoy, could you please tell us, honestly, what Miss Granger has been like while Felicity was in her care?" Ormlend requested.

"As in, has she, in your opinion, been a good parent? Speaking as a mother, do you think she was doing the right things where Felicity was concerned?" Jane elaborated.

"Hermione is a wonderful mother." Narcissa replied honestly. "When I first met Felicity, she looked like any child would at her age. She was healthy, happy and beautiful; she looked as though she'd been raised by someone who'd had experience and help, not a young single mother."

"Can we be assured, Mrs Malfoy, that your opinion is not in any way false or untrue?"

"Yes," Narcissa replied, obviously annoyed at someone thinking she was lying. "Hermione is a remarkable mother. I dare say, she's doing a lot better than I was, and I was much older than her, with much more experience at dealing with young children."

"You've had experience raising children other than your own?" Jane inquired.

"Yes," Narcissa said. "I helped my sister, Andromeda, raise her daughter Nymphadora, even though my family wished to disown her."

"What is your opinion on the prospect of your son being a father for Felicity?" Marsha asked.

"My son would make an excellent father," Narcissa replied. "He _is_, as I'm sure you know, Marsha, an exceptional parent," Narcissa's voice held an accusing tone as she spoke to the robed woman above her, and her stare became instantly piercing.

"Yes," Marsha replied, and her voice contained something Hermione thought she recognized as regret. "I would have to agree with you, Narcissa."

"I'd like to say, if I could, that no matter the relationship between Hermione and Draco, they both care very much for Felicity, and they would do anything in their power to assure she was raised happily and healthily, despite their differences."

"We shall take that into account when considering the final verdict. Thank you, Narcissa." Marie said from the stands, curious, like everyone, of what Narcissa had meant.

Narcissa nodded, stood up, and returned to her seat beside Draco.

"Mister Weasley," Marie said. "Please take a seat in the middle."

Ron got up slowly, sending a look Hermione didn't bother interpreting towards the other table, and sat in the centre chair.

"Have you had any prior experience with raising children, Mister Weasley?"

Ron shook his head. "Well, aside from looking after Teddy, no. But everyone thinks I'm great with him, so I shouldn't be any worse with Felicity."

"Mister Weasley," Marsha said. "Are you aware that you cannot gain custody if you are not in some way connected to the child in question?"

"Yes," Ron said, and then he sighed. "Look, I know I'm Felicity's father, okay?"

"How can you be certain?" Marie asked.

"Hermione and I… slept together, just after the end of the war. Not long after that, she left England to find her parents, and she didn't come back until recently. She was obviously pregnant when she left, but she couldn't tell anyone for some reason, and she stayed away to keep it hidden from the public. But then someone found her, so she came back."

"Why is it, Mister Weasley, that you are trying for custody?" Jane asked.

Ron shrugged. "Once I saw that Skeeter thought Malfoy was Felicity's dad, I had to act. I couldn't let him take my daughter."

"You were certain she was yours, even after you saw her obvious resemblance to Draco?" Marsha asked him. Ron nodded. While Marsha wrote something down, Jane spoke, her eyes looking a little glazed.

"Thank you, Mister Weasley. That will be all."

"Draco Malfoy, will you please take a seat in the centre chair?" Marsha asked. Hermione noted that they seemed to be speeding through the questions again.

Draco got up, brushing against Hermione slightly as he did, and glanced back at her twice before sitting down. Hermione couldn't help the slight blush that crept up her cheeks, even as she realised he was playing along with her idea. The intensity and emotion – that although she knew was faked – behind the stares was driving her slightly mad. Partly because it was _Malfoy_ and partly because it was… well, _Draco_. The other occupants of the room seemed to notice this interaction between them and smiled slightly, Marsha didn't seem to be attempting to hide her grin, and neither did Narcissa. This confused Hermione, but she ignored it, looking at Marsha as she spoke to Draco, even though she could feel his gaze flicker to her every now and again.

"Mister Malfoy," she began. "I'm afraid that, due to time constraints, we're going to have to get straight to the point."

Draco nodded warily; steeling himself up for what he knew was coming.

"If some of the members of this room are unaware, Draco Malfoy is a father." Marsha said, and there was a slight hint of remorse in her tone, which seemed to go unnoticed by no one. Hermione nearly gasped. _He was a father? So he _did _lose a child to the Ministry? But she said 'is'. That must mean he's still alive… Just taken._

"Could you please, Mister Malfoy, explain, briefly, the story of your son, and how he was born?" Marie asked. She seemed as shocked as everyone else that Draco was a parent at one stage in his life. Hermione supposed it was because he was such a well-known bachelor, and they almost _never _had kids.

"I fail to see the relevance that has to Hermione's case," Draco said, casting a glance at Hermione as he spoke, trying to keep the growing anger from his tone. Hermione slowly pulled her lower lip back between her teeth and looked down at her hands on the desk, afraid to look at him all of a sudden. This, it seemed, didn't pass unnoticed by Marsha, or the rest of the court, though she was sure they didn't see it as fear.

"If we are to be convinced that Felicity's best option is to stay with you and Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy, we need to understand that you would be an appropriate father figure for her. The way we see it, is that you explain to the court what type of father you were to your own son, and we will decide if you are a better father figure than that of Mister Weasley for Felicity, based on previous experience." There was an underlying tone in Marsha's voice, Hermione noticed, that was telling him to just do it, so she could use it as evidence for her case.

She was still trying to win her back her child, after all.

"Oh, well," Draco seemed to notice this, and acted accordingly, throwing a glance in Hermione's direction and smiling at her. "If it helps." He said as Hermione returned his smile briefly, the blush he had caused fading from her cheeks. He knew, right then, that Hermione was shocked at his secret. He wasn't going to say more than what would help her, however. No one had to know more than that. He knew he couldn't bear to speak about it anyway. He'd say as much was necessary, that's all.

Draco didn't want to talk at all, but he'd promised himself he'd help Hermione in any way he could. He'd spent every day since Tuesday thinking over the story of his past, and decided that, should the problem arise, he'd tell them what had happened. Passing his annoyed silence off as thought of where to start, he began talking.

"When I was 19, I was in an on-again-off-again relationship with Pansy Parkinson, and she informed me during… August, I think it was, that she was six months pregnant with my son, Scorpius." Draco, by habit, reached into the pocket of his jeans and felt for the crinkled picture of his son. He fought hard not to cry at his son's name. He hadn't spoken it, nor heard it, in over a year. "At first I didn't want anything to do with him. I was willing to pay for someone to help her with the child's upbringing, but I never wanted to raise him myself; I was too young to be a parent. I wanted to live my life. But when he was born… I never wanted to give him up. He was the light in the darkness for me, the one thing that made me realise life wasn't as bad as I thought. He was…" Draco looked over at Hermione and smiled. She glanced at him warily when he paused and as she looked at him, he spoke. "He was my happiness when I didn't have any."

Hermione smiled back at him, just slightly, and cast a glance to the family in the stands. _He knew what it was like to have nothing_, she thought. He knew what it was like to have nothing but a child to live for. Maybe he really did understand. She watched him closely as he spoke, as did everyone else. He always had a way with words, she knew, but this was uncanny. The way he could make them all listen so closely.

"I had to take care of him, because Pansy didn't want him. But I loved him. There wasn't a thing I wouldn't do for him. _Not a thing_. I never once hit him. I never once yelled at him. I'll admit, he was too young to do anything that could get him in trouble, but I knew, _I know_, I would never hit or yell at him in his life unless he did something incredibly bad. He was my son, and I loved him, because he was the only thing I had that I knew would never leave me."

He didn't really care that people sent his mother questioning glances, but he knew they understood what he really meant. His mother would die eventually, but his son; his son would stay with him until he, himself, died.

"Mister Malfoy," Ormlend spoke up. "I can't help but notice you're speaking in past tense. Is there a reason for this, or is it just… habit?"

"My son is dead," Draco told him. It was easier saying it straight out than making an excuse.

"Oh, I- I'm sorry," Ormlend stuttered.

Draco nodded, not believing the man was sorry in the least. Sorry he'd mentioned it, perhaps, but not sorry his son was dead. He'd been there, after all. He knew why.

"Perhaps, Mister Malfoy, you could tell us about-?"

"I won't tell you how he died," Draco told the woman in the stands. They didn't need to know, and they didn't care. "It's not relevant."

"Very well, Mister Malfoy," she replied.

Marsha spoke up, however, and Draco knew it couldn't be good. Her look told him she needed him to do this, and he was damn well annoyed that she was right.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, Mister Malfoy, but… perhaps you _should_ tell the court how it came to be that you lost your son. You don't have to go in to great detail, if you don't wish to, but the court may understand better, and therefore make a better decision, if you do tell us how the loss of your son affected you."

Draco and Hermione both knew what she was saying. _Make them pity you. Make them see that if you lost Felicity, even though she isn't yours, it could be bad. Make them see that what happened to you will happen to Hermione if they take her child._

Swallowing his anger, Draco nodded, casting a glance at Hermione. He instantly regretted it.

The sympathy, the pity, the guilt in her eyes made it hard for him to look away.

_She knows. She knows I lost him because of Pansy. Because of the Ministry._

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

"I know," he told her, and he turned back to Marsha. He couldn't bear it for much longer. He wanted to get out of there. He wanted to go back to the Manor, get his broom, and fly higher into the sky than he'd ever been before, so high that his fingers froze to the handle and his face went numb. He wanted to do what he'd done in November the year before. He wanted to freeze the tears that threatened to fall, and he wanted to plummet towards the earth, only to pull up at the last second as he realised that there was nothing he could do but live.

"Mister Malfoy?" Marsha asked, sending him a guilty look he didn't want to see. "How long did you live with Scorpius?"

Her voice almost broke as she said the name.

"Five months. I looked after him for five months, with help from my mother, and then out of nowhere, Pansy came back from Italy with a new husband, demanding she be given back her child."

"What made Miss Parkinson change her mind?"

"It's Mrs Delorenzo, now," Draco replied, his hatred for the woman seeping like venom into his voice as he said her name. "Her new husband couldn't afford her… avaricious ways. She needed the child support money to fund her materialistic endeavours, because her father cut her off from the inheritance when she married the Italian. He was a half-blood, apparently. Parkinson didn't approve."

"Was she granted custody of your son?" Marie queried.

Draco nodded. "I paid over seven hundred galleons child support every month."

"And Miss – Sorry, Mrs Delorenzo looked after your son well?"

"He was found starving to death in a cupboard six months later. Pansy's husband didn't like kids; he just liked money as much as Pansy. He beat him."

If Draco hated Pansy, he absolutely loathed her husband. And the way he spoke of him made the rest of the court hate him just as much.

"Every time Scorp spoke, he was beaten. Every time he did something wrong, that bastard slapped him and hit him and took all his frustration out on him. On my god damn _son_! They had to take him to hospital once, after he got beaten twice, once for talking and once for getting blood on the floor, and Pansy had the nerve to say I wasn't paying her enough.

"They stopped feeding him in the last week he was there, just before the inspection. The people from the Ministry came back for a check-up, found him bleeding and starving in the cupboard and took him away. They took him to a foster family, and they tried to help, but they couldn't. After a week, they sent him back to the Ministry. They didn't tell me anything about it until he was back here, in St Mungo's intensive care, almost dead. He wouldn't say a word, he wouldn't tell them what was wrong, because he'd been hit so much he'd nearly lost the ability to speak."

Draco looked up at the psychiatrist beside Marsha and stared him straight in the eye.

"Tell me, what happens to a child when they've been treated like that? What effects does it have on them?"

"W-well, m-most children, Mister Malfoy," Ormlend began. "The effects are often v-very negative."

"I can't imagine why," Draco replied sarcastically. Honestly, the man was almost scared of talking to him.

"Yes, well, they are more often than not so traumatic that a child will refuse any help offered, in fear of being treated badly again. I imagine your son would have rejected any help given?"

"He did. He never spoke, he never even cried. They couldn't feed him enough, because he would refuse, and they had to knock him out eventually to feed him through a tube, but it wasn't enough. He was too sick. Every time he woke up, he'd vomit it all back up, and they could never use a potion to help because he was too young. They called me back when they knew they couldn't save him. He wasn't going to get better in time, and they knew it. So they called me in to say goodbye."

He stopped then, letting what he'd said sink in. Marsha looked guilty. Dentity and Mr Ormlend looked miserable. Casting a glance at Ron, Hermione saw, for once, he wasn't glaring at Draco, but instead was watching him with something like pity in his eyes. Even Derek looked uncomfortable. Hermione saw that the foster family that were looking after Lissy were openly crying; the woman was leaning against the man's shoulder, sobbing quietly, and the man had silent tears falling down his face. Jane and Marie, up in the stands, had unshed tears pooling in their eyes. Hermione couldn't blame them, as she did too, because when Draco spoke of his son, you couldn't help but feel his pain, feel his love for the son he'd lost to a heartless woman. Hermione wanted to reach out to him, because she saw how much he didn't want to talk, but decided against it because it would ruin their appearance of having 'crushes' if she acted too affectionately, and he continued.

"They had him in a private ward; no one knew he was there aside from the Ministry, Pansy, her husband and me. They never came to see him, not even when he died."

"And you said goodbye?" Jane asked warily.

Draco nodded. "The day he died, they took all the tubes out of him, they took him off everything. They told me he could survive five minutes without life support, and that's all they gave me. I picked him up, he was tiny… too light for an eleven month old. I picked him up, and I just held him. I knew what was coming. I told him I loved him, and that I was so, so sorry for ever sending him away, for letting that stupid woman take him and that I was sorry that he ever got hurt and… and he spoke. He looked at me – he looked me right in the eyes – and he said 'daddy'."

If Hermione hadn't been crying when he first spoke of his son – which she was – she definitely would have been when he finished his last sentence, when she saw the first tear fall.

Draco could feel the tears forming as he thought the next sentence, but he continued to stare at Marsha Waters as he spoke, with the utmost amount of hatred in his eyes as he glared at her, even as the first tear fell. "That was his first and last word, 'daddy'." He said. Tears began to fall around the room, faster than before. The woman with Felicity let out a choked sob.

"My baby boy never got to live to his first birthday. I never got to see him grow up," Draco said. "Because you _messed up_." He glared at Marsha for another moment, before getting to his feet, just as someone else in the room did.

He was obviously quoting something someone had said to him, and he was glaring at Marsha with such unabashed hatred that Hermione guessed it must have been her. Keeping appearances be damned, she got to her feet just as he did and threw herself at Draco, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him as if she would never let go. She didn't care if they used to be enemies, or if he didn't want her to hug him, he was nearly crying, and he'd lost his god-damned son. He needed this more than she did, and she damn well knew it.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered against his neck, not caring in the least that there were people staring at her at that precise moment. "I'm so fucking sorry."

Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, uncaring whether people were watching or not, leaned down to bury his face in her hair, by her ear, and he heard her whisper an unneeded apology to him.

He shook his head, just slightly, and whispered back, "It's not your fault. It's theirs."

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat. "If we could continue…?"

Hermione and Draco didn't move, however, and someone jumped to their defence; they heard the squeak of someone pushing back their chair forcefully as they got to their feet. That someone, they realised, was Draco's mother.

"Leave them be, you heartless bastard! They're well within their rights to react like this. They've been through a lot, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Mrs Malfoy," Marsha began, but was promptly cut off.

"Don't you 'Mrs Malfoy' me, Waters," Narcissa warned, but thinking better of herself, spoke softly. "Just give them a moment, please."

Marsha seemed to consider this for a second before sighing. "I'm sorry, Narcissa, but we're on a tight schedule. Miss Granger?" she asked cautiously. "Miss Granger, we need you to speak for us."

"I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered to Draco.

"Don't be," he whispered back.

Slowly, the pair pulled apart, their tears long gone, and they returned mentally to the court room. Hermione stepped past Draco to the chair he had just vacated, but not before he brushed a stray curl from her face. He did it impulsively, she thought, because until he'd done it, he didn't seem aware of what he was doing. She was unsure at that moment whether he was acting or not.

Draco returned slowly to his seat, ignoring the looks his mother, along with everyone else in the room, sent him. He was watching Hermione, who still had a tear on her cheek; she sat nervously on the chair in the room's centre. He had a brief thought that she was playing the role of an emotional mother and sympathetic person perfectly, when he realised that, well… that was who she was. But, he thought, this was the perfect thing to help her win the case. Appeal to their moral compasses, show them what it's like to lose someone, and they won't take them from you. That hadn't really worked for him, but that was only because Pansy had done the same.

_God fucking dammit _he hated Pansy_._

"Miss Granger," Marie began slowly from the stands, casting nervous glances at Draco, who wasn't looking anywhere but at Hermione. "Can you please tell us about Felicity's life? We'd like to understand how you raised her, if that's alright."

Hermione nodded, and took a deep breath, but was silent.

"Miss Granger," Marsha said after a moment. "If Felicity's father is not Mr Weasley or Mister Malfoy, could you please tell us who is?"

Hermione took another deep breath. This was her chance; her chance to show them she was the worthy parent. This was her chance to tell the truth about Lissy's conception. Draco had told the truth, so she should too. Draco's story was probably worse, and she needed to tell _someone_, so why not in her daughter's defence? Hermione took one last breath, and looked up, straight into Marsha's eyes, begging her to see she'd struggled enough in her life, that she deserved her daughter because of all she'd been through.

"Well it was… the year after the war," she began. "It was late at night and I was searching for my parents – who'd I'd Obliviated in hopes of protecting them – in Australia. I was in a city in New South Wales, where I'd left them, and, knowing it was a shortcut to where I wanted to go, I headed down a deserted alleyway between two buildings. About half way down the alley, though, a man – who I know now, was actually a wizard, because he silenced and restrained me magically – jumped out from behind a door in the side of one of the buildings and he… he overpowered me. By the time I-"

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger," Marsha interrupted, looking uncomfortable. "But when you say he 'overpowered you' you don't mean that he-?"

"Raped me?" Hermione finished, hiding her discomfort. "Yes."

There was a series of gasps around the room, and Hermione turned to look at Ron, who was appalled, and to Draco, who looked almost sympathetic. She gave him a weak smile, which he returned, if only to make her feel better. Hermione didn't care if it was for show; it helped.

"So, you're saying that Felicity was-?" Jane began.

"Conceived from rape?" Hermione finished, nodding. To anyone but perhaps Draco, it would appear as though she didn't care, but he knew the signs of discomfort. Especially hers. He'd lived with her for a month; it was something he was bound to pick up on. Just like her habit of chewing on one side of her mouth, then the other, before swallowing – a habit that both annoyed and intrigued him.

"Do you know who this man was, Miss Granger?" Marsha asked.

"No," Hermione replied, as if it was obvious, which it kind of was.

"Very well… uh, continue," Marsha said. "Please."

"Well, like I said… he overpowered me. By the time I returned to England, to a little town outside London, and had the appropriate potion I was already one month pregnant, and the only way I could get rid of the baby was to go to a hospital, but I couldn't do that because someone might see me and ask about it. I, uh, was well known in muggle hospitals for helping out during my summers, and I couldn't go to a wizard one, because, well… I'm Hermione Granger. I wanted to go back to Australia to find my parents, but I didn't get the chance to because I was short on money; I'd donated most of what the Ministry gave me to charity. But, well, about a month before Felicity was born, I got an owl from the Ministry saying they'd found my parents on my behalf and returned them to England, where they were now living in a secluded area outside London. I didn't get to visit them, though, both because I didn't want to explain my pregnancy, and because I couldn't travel being as big as I was. Just before I decided to use muggle means to visit them, however, I got another owl informing me of… of their deaths." Hermione wiped a tear from her cheek and looked back up to Marsha. "They'd been discovered by some rogue Death Eater's, who figured I was responsible for the death of Voldemort." A few people cringed at the name, including the emotionless Derek Jones. Hermione ignored them. "They were tortured for information before they were killed, but they never said anything; they didn't know. My memory charm had worked too well. I inherited everything of theirs, including the house, and I moved there as soon as Lissy was born. I supported myself with the money they left me, and lived in their old house; I never left for very long, despite what people thought. I kept to muggle areas, but I was eventually seen by someone who recognised me, so I came back. I was sick of solitude anyway. I only had enough money left from the inheritance by then to last me to the end of this month, and… well the Malfoy's found out I was back, and since they want to start a day-care, they thought I'd be a good starting point as a famous member of society. They're letting me stay until I start my job, and can afford my own place again, and… well… then we get to this."

Marsha nodded. "Thank you, Miss Granger," she said.

"Marsha, you're late." Dentity announced from her side.

_Fucking woman and her conveniently timed meetings_, was all Draco could think.

Marsha nodded again and looked around the room. "It's been an interesting session, to say the least," she told them all, and a few people, namely Marie, Mr Ormlend and Jane, nodded. "We'll send owls to let you know of our next meeting, and… well, you know the rest. Court dismissed, and so on." With that, all the people in the stands stood up and left, casting Hermione and Draco sympathetic looks as they went. It annoyed Draco to no end, but Hermione couldn't care less. She was watching her daughter be carried away by another woman. Another woman who had no right to even think of Felicity as Hermione's child, let alone her own.

_Please let them give her back to me… please…_

Ron stood up, and approached Hermione, who was still in the chair, and placed a hand on her arm. "I'm sorry, 'Mione, I didn't know. Forgive me?"

Before Hermione could respond, however, Draco was in front of her, his wand drawn, pointed directly at Ron's heart.

"Fuck off, Weasley," he growled.

"I'll thank you not to attack my client, Mister Malfoy," Derek Jones said from behind him, packing up what looked like a pile of blank pieces of parchment and not looking at them.

"Your client? You haven't said a fucking word this entire time, you nutter! You're not a lawyer, you're a fucking mannequin!"

"Nevertheless, he's my client, and you're attacking him."

"I'm not," Draco argued.

"Oh?" Jones asked.

"I'm _defending _Hermione."

"Whatever, just get your wand off him."

Draco looked like he wanted to hex both Ron and Derek into oblivion, but a small hand on his arm stopped him. He looked down, and noticed that Hermione had gotten to her feet, and was placing a restraining hand on his wand arm.

"Don't, Draco," Hermione said quietly, and she sounded so tired and broken that Draco lowered his arm.

Ron looked slightly triumphant as he eyed the two of them, but he also glared at Hermione's hand, which was still on Draco's arm, though he said nothing, instead turning and leaving the room, Derek following not soon after, sending a glare at Draco, who returned it happily.

"Hermione…" Narcissa said quietly, walking around the back of the chair to stand in front of her and her son. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I… I don't know…" Hermione answered honestly. "You never asked."

Narcissa nodded and stepped forward to uncharacteristically embrace Hermione. After a moment's hesitation, Hermione hugged her back. Draco stood beside them awkwardly and pocketed his wand, seeing no further use for it.

"You can trust me, Hermione," Narcissa whispered. "You can tell me anything. I love you… you're a part of my family; the daughter I never had."

And Hermione knew, in that moment, when the closest thing she'd had to a mother in five years hugged her tightly and pulled back to smile at her, that she really did.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Okay, y'all know the story now. You don't need to read any more.**

**THERE'S MORE COMING, ALRIGHT. DON'T GIVE UP ON ME.**

**I know I revealed a lot in this chapter, but none of this is... _really important._ There's more to come, I swear. It'll be good!**

**And can I get some Derek Jones hate, please? I hate him. XD HATE HIM, DAMMIT.**

**Just... yeah, I don't know what else to say. What were your reactions?**

**R&R&L lovies, I need motivation to continue!**

**~Originalitys**


	20. Bluebells

Hermione received an owl two days after the second trial, telling her that on the next Wednesday – the 30th – her and Ron were to meet a representative from the department – most likely Marsha – at The Leaky Cauldron for a discussion, and she was welcome to bring someone along if she so wished. Hermione had sent a hasty reply, asking why they were continuing with the trials when they knew Ron wasn't her father, and the reply simply stated that 'unless Mister Weasley withdraws his want for custody, the trials are to continue as normal', which made Hermione so angry that she wouldn't speak to anyone, nor leave her room. She spent the time alone, researching who T.F.W was, because they'd sent her a note with the Ministry's reply saying that they would be at the meeting on Wednesday, but she probably wouldn't know who they were. She asked the house elves to get things for her, never speaking to anyone else. Until, that is, the Tuesday before her scheduled meeting, when Draco barged into her room at four in the morning, shaking her awake and demanding to know why she was locking herself up in her room and ignoring everyone. When she asked, irritated, what he was doing awake so early, he refused to tell her until she answered his question.

She'd replied, heatedly, that she didn't have to answer to him until he told her what he was doing on top of her.

"I'm waking you up," he replied, not moving. He had his knees on either side of her legs, his hands by her shoulders, and his body above hers as she lay straight as a nail, having remained like that since she had been jostled awake. She noticed suddenly that he had on only a pair of black boxers, his pale chest bare above her.

"I'm awake," she told him. "Now get off me."

"I'm not on you."

She had to admit, he had a point. But technicalities be damned, she was meant to be asleep.

"Get off my bed."

"No."

"Malfoy…" she warned.

"Granger…" he said, in the same tone of voice.

"Get off."

"Not until you answer me."

"Not until you get off my bed."

"It's not _your _bed."

She huffed, resisting the urge to cross her arms as she responded childishly. "Is so."

"Granger, just answer the damn question."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Is that your answer, or is that you being stubborn?"

"I'm not being stubborn!" Hermione declared, her eyes narrowing as she glared at his dark form. She could barely see more than his outline in the dark, though she could just make out where his head was because a thin line of moonlight streamed through the curtains of the window on wall to her right, illuminating a small streak of his face. She saw one of his eyes, just barely, and realised that, in the light of the moon, it had flecks of blue within it. Hermione wanted to get a better look at them all of a sudden, but Draco's voice brought her back to the situation she was in and she realised that he'd narrowed his own eyes to glare back at her.

"Granger, are you even listening to me?"

"No," she said honestly.

He sighed, looking away from her face and closing his eyes. "I know you've been getting letters, Hermione," he told her. "I saw the owls."

Hermione remained silent, and he met her eyes again, speaking softly. "It's obviously got you worked up, and I want to know why."

"I didn't think you cared," she confessed, smiling uncertainly at him, though she didn't think he noticed. She looked away, over at the window, and he remained mute for several moments before speaking finally.

"Just tell me," he ordered lightly.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself when she realised he wasn't planning on moving until she answered, she met his eyes again. "They're making me meet with them… tomorrow… to talk about what's going to happen now. They're not even stopping the trials, even though they know he's not her father. They say that unless he changes his mind about the custody thing, they're going to continue as normal. And I can't figure out who the hell T.F.W is, but they'll be there tomorrow."

He climbed off her slowly and sat on the edge of her bed, staring vacantly at the wall as he tried to keep himself in check. _How could they do this to her? How could they take the one thing that made her happy, even if it was rightfully hers?_

Hermione pulled herself up into a sitting position and moved over to sit beside him, grabbing a crinkled piece of paper from her bedside as she did so.

"Here," she whispered, holding it out to him.

He jumped slightly, and took the piece of paper. It was the letter, telling Hermione to meet the representative at 1 o'clock for the meeting, and it had be crumpled up and unfurled so many times, the edges were ripped. He flipped it over and read what the mysterious T.F.W had written, but said nothing.

"Will you come with me?" she asked, almost as if she was expecting him to say no.

"Do you want me to?" he asked in lieu of answering, looking sideways at her.

She nodded once, took the letter out of his hand and pulled her wand from underneath her pillow. Draco watched curiously, in the dim light, as she held it out.

"_Accio letters_," she mumbled, and a series of letters slipped, moments later, under the door and rested on her outstretched palm in a neat pile.

She scrunched them up, one by one – there were about seven of them – and held them all haphazardly in her palm before pointing her wand at them and saying '_Wingardium Leviosa_'.

"What are you-?" Draco began, watching the letters float strangely before them.

"Shh," she told him.

She levitated the scrapped letters for another moment before holding out the palm of her other hand – the one that wasn't holding the wand – and muttering a word Draco couldn't make out under her breath.

The ball closest to Draco erupted into blue flames, and the others followed not soon after.

They cast an eerie blue light across Hermione's and Draco's faces, along with the other objects in the room, and Draco found himself entranced by the fact that the paper didn't seem to be burning at all.

"Bluebell flames," Hermione said, answering his unspoken question. "They won't burn the paper unless I want them to. They're meant to only burn the intended target, and as of now, that's the air around the paper."

"Where did you learn that?" he asked, turning his head to look at her, the blue flames casting strange shadows across her features that made her look almost inhuman in her beauty. "I don't remember seeing _that_ in any Charms book."

Hermione smiled, her teeth shining slightly blue in the light. "I must have been the only person ever to read _Hogwarts: A History_, because Bathilda Bagshot mentions this spell at least three times when she talks about the lights in the Ravenclaw common room, and the staff rooms."

"You're not the only person to have read that, Granger," Draco replied, turning his head back to the bluebell flames. The light dancing across her face, very near caressing it as it flickered, was doing strange things to his mind. He felt, suddenly, as if he had to do something impressive. Quickly ridding himself of the thought, he watched the flaming balls of light dance before him, like shining cerulean stars.

"You've read it?" she asked, looking straight at him. One of the flaming letters dropped faintly as her concentration waned slightly.

"Watch it," he said. The balls floated back to the same height as Hermione looked back at them. She began to have them spin slowly in circles before he replied.

"Yes," he admitted. "But I only ever read about Slytherin house and the Founders."

"Figures…" Hermione muttered.

"Hey!" Draco protested. "I was only eleven. I was young and impressionable, and I wanted to know more about the house than anyone, because… well… I was an arrogant little prat."

"You still are," Hermione deadpanned.

Draco scoffed. "I'm not little."

At this, Hermione laughed. "You're still an arrogant prat, though. I can't believe you thought Harry would be your friend."

"I had him planned as more of a follower than a friend; kind of like what Crabbe and Goyle were. Although… he was kind of scrawny, so he might have been more useful as a messenger of some sort."

Hermione sent one of the bluebell balls straight into his face, stopping it just before it reached his nose, and he jolted back in shock. She chuckled and it returned to the rest of its flaming companions, which were now moving in a slow figure eight.

"Shit, Granger," Draco moved slowly to sit up properly again. "Are you trying to burn off my eyebrows?"

Hermione shrugged. "Serves you right for waking me up at four in the morning," she said.

"Well, it serves you right for ignoring me and my mother for four days."

She chuckled in response and pointed her wand at one of the letters in the air, making it levitate forward until it was in front of her. She flicked her wand twice, tapped the end of it to the ball, and, with a quiet whisper of _Avifors_, it transformed suddenly into a flaming blue bird.

"This is doing nothing for my self-confidence, you know," Draco told her as she transfigured the last flame into a flower, and had them float around their heads.

"Really?" Hermione asked. "It's doing wonders for mine."

"Of course it is."

That watched the flames in silence for around another half an hour before Hermione smiled, then suddenly frowned, and with another flick of her wand, the flames combined and made the shape of a familiar looking teddy bear, one that, had either of them looked into the crib behind them, would be sitting in the corner, then changed into a small winged horse, which she made trot just above the carpet. It looked like a beautiful flaming Pegasus, running over a dark sea.

"Lissy loves it when I do this," Hermione whispered, making it jump and canter across the floor. "It helped her get to sleep sometimes."

Draco smiled sadly as he watched the flaming horse transform back into simple flaming orbs, and with a whisper of '_incendio_' from Hermione, they began burning in mid-air, the ashes floating to the floor as they died.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, and Draco got to his feet. "I'll let you get back to sleep," he said, and began making his way to the door. He heard a muffled creak, like a floorboard under carpet, and a second later there was a hand on his arm, stopping him from leaving. He began to turn as she spoke.

"I – I know it's stupid," Hermione said quickly, before he could face her completely. "But will you stay with me?"

Draco faced her finally, and she let go of his arm. "Why?" he asked quietly.

"I don't – I –I'm tired of being alone," Hermione confessed.

He met her eyes, and in the early morning sunlight that was flitting through the gap in the curtains, he saw flecks of gold within the brown that he had never noticed before. Her pleading eyes locked with his and after a quick thought on the consequences, he nodded, finding none, other than the fact that it was Hermione.

"Just – just stay in here with me, please." Hermione begged him quietly, pulling him gently by the hand back to her bed.

Allowing himself to be pulled along, he rounded the bed in silence and pulled back the covers, waiting for Hermione to climb in before he followed.

Feeling incredibly awkward, Draco stared at the slowly-lightening roof of her room, and decided that as soon as she was asleep, he'd get up and go back to his own room to save them from the awkwardness of waking up together later on.

Hermione fell asleep fairly quickly, lying on her side and facing away from Draco, but he couldn't seem to even relax. He wasn't planning on falling asleep anyway, but something felt wrong about sleeping like this with Hermione. A small part of his brain told him that it had something to do with the fact that there was a clear gap between them, but he quickly silenced it as Hermione shifted in her sleep, rolling over to face him. He turned his head to look and her, and was promptly shocked.

In the dim light of the room, he saw that she looked more relaxed and at peace than she ever had when she was awake, and he was taken aback by the lack of frown lines, or even smile lines, that so often found her features. Not even seeing her with Lissy, smiling happily and laughing, could compare to how serene she looked when she was asleep, completely lost to the world.

Resisting the urge to reach out and brush a stray curl from her face, Draco decided it was time for him to leave. He sat up, pulling the covers back as he did, and had just turned to swing his legs over the bed when Hermione spoke behind him, letting out a soft whisper that was so quiet, he could have chosen not to hear it.

"Draco…"

He looked back at her slowly, expecting to see her staring at him with a confused expression, waiting for eye contact to ask him why he was leaving, but found that that was not the case. That was most definitely not the case.

She didn't have a confused expression.

She didn't try to look him in the eye.

Nor did she want to ask him any kind of question.

No, that was not the case.

Because Hermione was still asleep.

…

Her eyes were closed, her breathing as even as it had been before, her hand outstretched to reach towards something or someone Draco couldn't see, and a small smile had formed on her face.

"Draco…" she whispered again, her fingers twitching. "Please."

"Draco?"

Draco turned his head sharply, his gaze finding the small picture frame on the bedside table.

Vassy was there, her eyes wide and her mouth frowning.

"Vassy?" he whispered. "What the-?"

"Take her hand," she said, cutting him off and pointing at Hermione.

"What?"

"She's waiting for you to take her hand. Lie down and take it."

"I-"

"Do it, Draco," she said.

"Please, Draco…" Hermione whispered from behind him.

"B-"

"I'll tell your mother what you did during fourth year."

Draco glared. "You wouldn't."

Vassy just smirked, but her expression softened as she spoke. "Lie down and take her hand, Draco. Stay with her. She needs you. She's done this every night since they took her child, and no amount of words can soothe her."

Draco sighed, turning away from Vassy's picture frame to stare at Hermione, whose hand was still stretched out towards him across the bed, and settled back underneath the covers, facing her.

He knew Vassy was still watching from her portrait, and that she wouldn't leave unless she knew he'd taken her hand, and even then, not until he'd fallen asleep.

His mind's only excuse was that it was Granger. The person he had grown up to believe was below him – something he'd never quite done; the person, the girl, the _woman _that he was meant to despise with all his being, avoid as much as possible, insult at every opportunity and cause the utmost misery to.

He was supposed to hate her.

And yet, he found himself reaching out to her, taking hold of her hand, and rubbing it almost reassuringly as he moved towards her.

"I'm here, Hermione," he told her quietly, secretly relishing in the fact that she sighed hopefully and smiled in her sleep, pulling herself closer to him.

He shifted further to the centre of the bed, allowing himself, after careful deliberation, to rest himself beside her, lying on his back, and found himself struck dumb when Hermione leaned over him, placed her head on his shoulder, and squeezed his hand tightly in hers.

Staring at the ceiling once more as Hermione slept comfortably beside him, he thought back over the little time that had passed between his first letter to her, at his mother's request, and where they were now. He couldn't believe that, after their childhood, after the war, after everything they'd been through that they'd share a house, _home_ she'd called it, and even a bed – innocently as was humanly possible, of course. Though he'd never admit it, he'd grown to care for the bushy-haired, know-it-all muggle-born as much as he had her daughter, and he seemed more relaxed around her now than he ever had in his life. Whether this was because of the fact that she was asleep, he didn't know, but he found comfort in it. Had he been told, during his childhood, that he would one day comfortably share a home and, at some point, bed, with the girl, he would have scoffed – predictably – and ordered that the teller of such lies be taken immediately to St Mungo's to stay permanently. Had it been said recently, though… well, he'd still be a little shocked, but less inclined to outright deny it ever happening. Now that it was just his mother and him, he was free to think on his own again. He was free to think whatever he wanted, act however he wanted, and_ be _whatever he wanted.

And right then, as Hermione shifted, blowing cool air against his bare skin, all he wanted to be was himself, where he was, with her. Nothing and no one to bother them, nothing and no one to take away the few moments of peace he had with her in his arms, absolutely nothing and absolutely no one to take away the only thing that had made him hopeful since he'd lost what little hope he'd had since the end of the war. Draco was drifting off, preparing for what was sure to be the only good night's sleep he'd had in over a year, and he didn't care at all that it was his childhood enemy next to him. He didn't want to think about where they'd come from. He didn't want to think about anything other than how well she fit in his arms. He didn't want to think about anything other than how much he cared for her.

Oh, yes, he was _supposed_ to hate her…

But he found it harder with each passing breath.

…

Blaise Zabini loved making fun of his friend. He loved riling him up, pissing him off, and sitting back to watch as he completely lost his marbles, but _this_; oh, he was going to have some fun today.

Showing up around noon on Tuesday morning, straight to the study that Draco most frequently worked in, he was shocked to find his companion absent. Setting off to search the other often-occupied areas of the mansion, he came, finally, to a stop outside the door of Draco's room. He couldn't possibly be in bed still. He woke early every morning, almost too early, by Blaise's standards, and began work immediately. To sleep in, for Draco, meant missing important things. He'd only ever skip work if he was dead, and even then… he might be like their old History of Magic teacher, Binns, and wake up as a ghost and have nothing change.

Blaise knocked once on the door to alert Draco of his presence, and was just placing his hand on the door when a voice spoke from behind him.

"He's not in there," it said.

Blaise turned quickly, his hand on his wand before he was even aware what he was doing, and he found himself pointing it at a portrait across the hall. He appraised her cautiously before lowering his wand slowly and stepping closer to the frame in which she stood.

The young figure in it smirked at his reaction and nodded towards the door on her right – Blaise's left.

"He's in there."

"He's in Sco-?" Blaise cut himself off at a look from the woman in the portrait; a glare, as if speaking that name, or of anything to do with it, was as bad as swearing.

"Hasn't left since very early this morning. _Very early_."

Blaise raised an eyebrow curiously and stepped towards the door, reaching out to take the handle firmly within his grasp.

"You might want to prepare yourself," the portrait-girl warned.

"For what?" he asked.

"Anything," she answered evasively.

Rolling his eyes at the vagueness of her answer, Blaise decided not to knock, and stepped into the room with a sweeping push of the door, promptly stopping dead in his tracks as his gaze fell upon the bed.

Draco was in the room, he noted.

But he wasn't alone.

Beside the blonde-haired wizard, curled up within his arms, was a familiar looking, bushy haired woman, clad in what appeared to be a too-big shirt and a pair of short bike pants. They were huddled together, half under the covers and as Blaise watched, Draco fell onto his back, pulling the familiar woman with him, and breathed out something akin to a relaxed sigh. Blaise saw the back of the woman's shirt shift, as if someone were rubbing her back gently beneath it.

"Oh, this is _priceless_." Blaise whispered, stepping further into the room and silently wishing he had a camera, or one of those muggle video-thingies.

He made his way towards the bed, stopping right at the end of it, and caught sight of the woman's face. He moved further around to Draco's side and got a better look.

"Granger?" he breathed quietly, smirking. "No fucking way."

His voice, however quiet he tried to make it, betrayed him, and Draco woke groggily, his arms tightening slightly around Hermione. He caught sight of the dark wizard above him and groaned, knowing what it must look like to him.

"It's not what it looks like," he told him.

"How many times have I heard that before?" his friend replied. "If this isn't what it looks like, I'm sure as hell intrigued."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Draco looked down at Hermione – no, she was _Granger_; she was _meant_ to be Granger – and saw that she was awake too.

Her face was turned away from Blaise in such a way that he couldn't see her chocolate-brown eyes staring openly at Draco, and Blaise was too caught up in stifling his laughter to notice her breathing had shallowed, and he also didn't see Hermione mouth 'get him out of here' before she fell back against Draco's chest and deepened her breathing.

Draco smirked at her, and Blaise mistook it for what he would later call a 'loving smile' and promptly laughed aloud.

"Oi, shut up!" Draco told him in a harsh whisper, nodding at the woman on top of him. _Please, let him not be a douchebag this morning. Let him let me out quietly._

"Oh, I'm sorry; I don't mean to wake up your _girlfriend_." Blaise chuckled.

Ignoring the bait, Draco glared at him. "What do you think's going to happen if this woman wakes up on top of me and sees you in the room as well? It's fucking _Granger_, for Merlin's sake. She'll curse your balls off before you can blink."

"She's asleep now, though," Blaise said. "Nothing to worry about."

"I'll wake her up if you want. I can point her in your direction."

Blaise just stared at Draco. His friend was so strange sometimes.

"Granger doesn't scare me in the least," he told him. "Strange little bookworm that she is, her worst attack is a dictionary to the head."

"She _is _the dictionary, you moron," Draco told him. Blaise smirked at the unintentional compliment Draco had paid to the woman asleep beside him. "She is so full of hexes, she's fit to burst." Draco looked down at Hermione, who was glaring at him through narrowed eyes, though she smiled slightly, and he sighed.

"Can we get out of here before you wake her up? I'd rather I _didn't _get my balls blasted off by a crazy woman who's just woken up."

Blaise rolled his eyes, his voice taking on a serious tone. "Yeah, alright. I'll meet you in your study. There's something you need to know."

Curious, Draco raised an eyebrow, but Blaise just walked towards the door. He stopped when he reached it, however, and turned back to his friend, who still hadn't moved.

"This is big, Draco. You'd better hurry up. Don't wake Granger. I can't have her overhearing it. This isn't something I think you'll want to tell her any time soon, no matter your… relationship."

As soon as Blaise was gone, Hermione sat up and looked at the door.

"What do you think he meant by that?" she asked.

Draco shrugged, pulling the covers back and getting slowly to his feet, turning to look at Hermione, who was in the centre of the bed, wrapping the large doona around herself. He readjusted his boxers before stretching his arms above his head and speaking. "It's Blaise, it could mean anything."

"Why can't I know, though?"

"Probably Unspeakable business," Draco replied.

"Wh-?" Hermione paused, looking up at him, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his chest practically rippled as he stretched. "He's an Unspeakable? Zabini? Really?"

Draco stifled a yawn behind his fist. "Yeah… Best one there is, or so I've heard."

Hermione turned back to the door in thought, letting out a low hum of consideration.

"I'm not going to tell you what he says, you know," Draco told her.

"Not even if it's about… someone planning to assassinate me?"

Draco paused as if considering it, then sighed. "If Blaise made me swear not to tell you, I wouldn't… but I'd probably stop you from going anywhere without a disguise or an escort."

The admission hung in the air for a few moments, before Hermione smiled.

"I'd probably get incredibly frustrated and sneak off somewhere."

"And then you'd get assassinated," Draco said.

"That thought would have made you incredibly happy a few years ago," she replied.

_It wouldn't make me happy now… _a distant part of his brain whispered.

Ignoring it, Draco remained silent until Hermione turned to look at him and she gave him a curious look.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she muttered, shaking her head and looking away again. "You should go."

"Granger-" he began, though he was unsure what he was going to say.

"Blaise is waiting," she told him.

He began to say her name again, but she turned and gave him a pointed look. "Go and find out whether someone's planning to kill me," she said, smiling slightly, and, pulling the covers off herself, she walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind her, locking it quickly.

Being practically kicked out of her room made Draco wonder whether she'd been entirely sane that night – or, earlier that morning – when she asked him to stay. She didn't seem to regret it though… she didn't even seem surprised when she'd woken up on top of him either; she just wanted Blaise gone. But he couldn't help but wonder… _why?_

Shaking his head, Draco exited Hermione's room, crossed the hall and entered his own, only to emerge in a pair of jeans and a loose shirt a few minutes later before he headed to the other end of the mansion towards his study, where Blaise sat, drinking Firewhiskey, on one of the chairs in front of his desk. He rounded the mahogany table and had barely lowered himself into his chair and run his fingers through his still-damp hair when his friend spoke, looking him dead in the eye.

"Someone's after Granger," he told him. "And it's all because of you."

* * *

><p><strong>An: OH. MY. DEAD. WIZARD. GOD. JDLKGJADLK;GJAKL**

**Honestly, though, I knew that was gonna happen... _but you didn't! HAHAHAHA!_**

**XD Ah, well... I do, really, love Blaise as a character in fanfics. There's so little about him in the actual HP series, so you can... make him however you want him to be, really. It's like having an OC, but that someone else came up with the basis of. It's wonderful.**

**ANYWAY... what did you guys think? I want you to be as honest as possible with me, guys. I can't write well if I don't get criticism for things... Were Draco's realisations realistic or... not? Is there too much speaking going on? Should I have more... thoughts from people and stuff?**

**R&R&L&AMQ my dears! XD (read and review and love and answer my questions :P)**

**~Originalitys**


	21. Foreshadowed

_Someone's after Granger… it's all because of you…someone is after _Granger_ because of _you.

The words Blaise had spoken bounded around Draco's head, giving him a headache.

_It can't be._ That foreshadowing shit only happened in movies, in books, in tragic tales of live, love and death. They can't have gone from joking about assassinations to actually bearing witness to the beginning of what was sure to be an attempt at Hermione's life. That just didn't happen to people like them.

But then again, normal people don't spend eighteen years fighting a guy like Voldemort every day, but Potter seemed to be an exception to that, so why was this any different?

_Because Granger's already survived someone trying to kill her. That should only happen once! That happened in this house, too. Maybe she should leave… but…_

"When you say someone's after her, you mean-?"

"Someone wants her dead, Draco, and they tried hiring me to do it," Blaise told him. He wasn't supposed to be there, telling him this. He wasn't meant to tell anyone. But someone had practically _begged _him to. They'd even tried to _buy _protection for Hermione. And they were paying a lot more than the person who wanted her dead. He wasn't here for Granger's sake, though; he was here for Draco's.

Draco stared at his friend. _That's too fucking cliché. Now I'm going to have to fight him to the death for Granger, and I'll end up killing him, but not before I get fatally wounded, and Hermione'll have to kiss it better, but we'll both end up dead somehow._

"I said no."

_Well, that's a relief. I won't have to kill him… yet._

"How the hell is it my fault, though? Who the fuck wants her dead?"

"I don't know who it is. They sent a letter, I didn't recognise the writing, all it said was I'd be sent twelve thousand galleons if Hermione Granger was disposed of."

Draco nearly laughed, but the situation was too serious for even a smile. Twelve thousand galleons was nothing to a man like Blaise Zabini. Either the person that wanted Granger dead was incredibly stupid, not that desperate for her to stop breathing, or they just didn't know Blaise. Probably the former, going by their choices of trying to hire Blaise as a hit-man; he _was_ well known for his abilities.

"And how is it my fault?"

"You're stealing someone's kid, apparently… and she's a lying, cheating bint of some description. First I thought it was Weasley, you know, with the trials, but he's too stupid to think of hiring a hit-man. It has to be a friend of his, though. Someone who knows about the trial and someone who doesn't approve of her or you getting the kid; especially not both of you, it would seem."

Draco pondered this for a while, wondering how Blaise even knew about the trials in the first place, and it seemed plausible – there were a lot of people who wanted him, and his family, dead, because of what they'd done in the war – but there was one thing he didn't understand.

"Why can't I tell _her _this?"

"Because if you tell her, she'll either freak the fuck out, or she'll somehow manage to get herself killed." Blaise paused for a moment. "Or both."

"I think you underestimate her," Draco said.

"I think you underestimate _me_," Blaise replied. "Trust me, mate. You don't want to tell her. Besides, if she knows, I can't do the research I need to."

Draco's mind went blank. "Research? For what?"

Blaise shook his head. "Mate, you're dumber than I thought."

Draco glared at his friend.

"You want to find out who's after her, don't you?"

"Yeah," Draco replied warily. "What's that got to do with research, and her not knowing about it?"

"We can use her-" Blaise held up a hand as his friend began to interrupt.

"She's not going to be bait for some-"

"Not as bait, but as something to follow. If someone wants her dead, they'll keep an eye on her through something constant. We need to find out what that is, and the less she knows, the better; if she looks like she's searching for them, they'll off her before we find them, and we don't want that."

_No, we don't, _Draco admitted silently. Blaise seemed to sense this, and nodded.

"I know what your plan is, mate, and I need you to keep doing it."

"Plan? What? I don't know what you're-"

"Love interest, Draco. You're acting as her love interest, and she's being yours, for the trial, and I need you to keep doing it."

"How do you even-?"

"Your mother does actually talk to me, mate."

_Well that answers the 'how does he know about the trials' question,_ Draco thought.

"Look, it's not important; just keep doing what you're doing."

"Uh… why? What's the point in that?"

"Be something constant in her life, you ninny, even after the trials. They probably won't try and kill her until after the whole things been settled, so you need to stay as close to her as possible, alright?" Blaise told him, getting to his feet. Draco followed suit and they walked towards the arm chairs to one side of the desk. Draco took a seat in one, and Blaise moved towards the bookshelf nearby, scanning through the old tomes.

"What if I don't?" Draco asked. He had no intention of not doing it, now that he knew why he had to, but he had to ask, just in case.

Blaise pulled a book out from the shelf and sat in the armchair beside Draco's.

"If you don't look after her, you'll lose someone else you care about."

Draco stared at Blaise curiously, one blonde eyebrow raised, but he said nothing.

Blaise chuckled, seeing his expression, and began to flip through the book he held.

"Mate, you slept in the same bed as her, and you've been living with her and looking after her kid for like a month. I'd be more surprised if you _didn't_ start to care about her. I'm just waiting for you to marry her now. I shotgun best man, by the way."

"Whatever," Draco said. _Why does everyone think I'll marry Granger?_ "What's with the book? And what am I gonna have to do?"

"You'll have to go with her wherever she goes, and if you can't, send a house elf or something; maybe two, so she's never alone. That's the key thing," Blaise told him, not looking up from the book, which he failed to tell Draco about, much to his annoyance. "_Do not leave her alone._ Not even for a second, alright?"

"Why the fuck'd you make me leave her in her room then?"

"She's in your house, stupid. No one'll get her here."

"Weasley nearly did."

This made Blaise look up. "What?"

"He got past the wards somehow. First I thought it was because Potter did something to them, but they were all fine when I checked. He got past them, and I didn't fucking notice."

Blaise looked down at the book in his lap. "I have a theory as to how he got in here, but Granger'd probably know more about it than I do."

"What's your theory?"

"_Stellas Flammam_," Blaise answered. "Powerful magic, though; I doubt even Potter could cast it. Actually, I doubt even _Granger_ could cast it."

"What the fuck is _Stellas Flammam?"_

"_Powerful magic_," Blaise repeated. "Merlin's hairy balls, mate, do you ever pay attention?"

Draco simply rolled his eyes. "Want me to go get Granger?"

"No," Blaise answered, turning back to the book in his lap; the book on ancient charms. "If we're going to ask her about it, we need a better excuse than curiosity."

They sat in silence for a while; the only sound was Blaise turning the page every few minutes, when Draco got an idea.

"Unspeakable business," he said.

Blaise looked up from his book to see his friend smiling at him. "What?"

"You're an Unspeakable, you nitwit. No one except you knows what those guys _really _do, so just tell her you need it for a work assignment or something. I already told her you are one."

"You told her? Fuck, mate, I told you not to tell anyone!"

"It's Granger, Blaise. She would have found out eventually, even if she never saw you or heard someone talk about you. Hell, now that she has a job in Regulation and Control, she'd find out on her first day."

"Whatever," Blaise replied, and he was silent for another moment, before he looked up at Draco and sighed. "Go and get your girlfriend then."

"She's not my fucking girlfriend, Zabini," Draco told him, getting to his feet.

"Then you'd better bloody change that, hadn't you?"

Draco stopped dead and turned to face his dark-haired companion. "_What?_"

Blaise gave a non-committal shrug, smirking at the book in his lap, and turned a page. "You heard me, mate: 'Do not leave her alone. Not even for a second'. I think she'd be a bit freaked out if you followed her around without reason."

"I think she'd be more freaked out if I just walked up to her and asked her to be my girlfriend," Draco retorted.

"Tell her it's all part of the plan for the trials."

"Blaise, I'm not going to date Granger."

Blaise didn't look up from his book, smirking silently to himself, and Draco groaned, running a hand down his face.

"I hate you," Draco declared.

"I know, mate. I know. Now go fetch your girlfriend so I can figure out if we need to get some Aurors back to ward your house again."

Sighing, Draco made his way up to Hermione's room, contemplating what was the best approach at 'asking her out', so to speak, and decided a direct approach was best, so when Hermione opened the door, he ran a hand through his hair and lifted his head to meet her eyes.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

Hermione stared, dumbstruck, at him for three minutes and twenty six seconds before speaking.

Draco counted.

"Wh-what?" she managed finally, her hand clenching the door handle tightly.

Suddenly, Draco wasn't as confident as he had been.

"For- for the… you know, the trials, and the, uh… publicity thing. I thought it would be… well, better, if we pretended to be a, uh, couple. I mean, after the last trial I- I think they'd be a bit shocked if our relationship didn't change."

Nodding in understanding, Hermione stared down at the base of the doorframe before meeting his eyes again.

"Yeah, alright. I-Is that all you wanted? I was… planning on-"

"Locking yourself up in your room until your meeting tomorrow?"

Hermione remained silent, pulling her hand from the doorknob, and tugged on her shirt – a grey, thigh length one – self-consciously as he stared at her.

Rolling his eyes for the hundredth time, Draco reached out and grabbed her hand.

"Come on, Granger. Blaise needs to talk to you," he told her, pulling her out of her room and down the hallway.

"Talk to me?" she asked, walking quickly to catch up with his long strides as he pulled her along. Sparing her the trouble, Draco slowed, but neither released their hold on each other's hand. "About what?"

"Some spell… Stella's… flame-man or something."

"_Stellas Flammam_?" she asked.

"That sounds about right. What do you know about it?"

"Well, it's… it's a really old spell," Hermione began, taking on the tone she so often used on Harry and Ron during their school years. "It's Latin for 'flame of the stars' and… it's like a combination of a directional charm and the Lumos charm, created by Stella Originali in the 8th Century. It allows the caster to see in the dark – that part ends if you say 'lux' – and, uh, if they so wish, to direct them to any place they desire to go – with the additional spell 'dirige me', and it ends with 'Mihi venit'. You can end it all with the word 'finite', as well. The caster of the 'flame of the stars' spell can follow the light to any destination. _Stellas Flammam_ can also direct the person to places hidden under 'undiscoverable' charms - though not the Fidelius Charm, because that requires word from the secret keeper - and will act like starlight in the way that wards cannot stop it… If a person is following the light of the _Stellas Flammam_ then the wards will be destroyed temporarily to let them through, making it appear as though the person just got lucky or the wards were just… gone. It's a very advanced spell - much like the Patronus Charm - and it is rare for underage wizards to cast it properly - there may be catastrophic accidents if an uneducated witch or wizard were to perform it, as, if cast incorrectly, it will destroy the casters wand, and most likely their entire self, with white flames that are as hot as the sun. It is also a very rare spell to be used publicly, as introductions of the Lumos and Direction Charms have led it to be deemed unnecessary, though many witches and wizards that know of the spell beg to differ."

"You know you sound like a teacher when you talk like that," Draco told her when she was finished. "A teacher reading right from a text book…"

She gave his hand a painful squeeze and hit him on the arm with her free hand. "You know, if you're going to be my…" Hermione paused, struggling to get the word out, because it was _Malfoy_. "…boyfriend, you're going to have to be less of an insufferable git."

"Now, now, Granger," he told her, releasing her hand and swinging his arm across her shoulders. "If this is to be a relationship of equals, I get to be an insufferable git – which I'm not, of course – if you're an insufferable know-it-all… and we both know _that_ will never change."

Hermione elbowed him in the side, and they walked in silence until they reached the door to Draco's study, Hermione remaining under Draco's arm.

"I take it Blaise knows?" she asked. "He was your… inspiration for this, wasn't he?"

Draco took his arm off her shoulders, deciding mentally that he could beat himself up about it later, and nodded.

Hermione grabbed hold of the handle of the door, took a deep breath, and pushed her way in, nearly knocking Blaise over in the process.

She reached out and caught hold of the front of his shirt, and Draco looped a quick arm around her waist to stop her toppling over.

"Nice catch, Draco," Blaise said, eyeing Draco's arm that was still around Hermione's waist as he steadied himself on his own feet, and Draco was unsure at that moment what Blaise was _really _talking about.

Hermione let go of his shirt, taking a step back because of his unnerving closeness, and bumped into Draco, the long necklace she wore jingling as it hit his arm.

"S-sorry," she whispered, though she didn't move to get away from him.

"Don't worry about it, Granger," Draco said, casting Blaise a curious look as he released Hermione.

Blaise gestured towards the arm chairs and Draco nodded, pushing Hermione slightly in the right direction. They each sat down – Draco and Hermione next to each other on the two-person sofa and Blaise on the arm chair across from them – and Draco leaned back comfortably.

"What's, uh, what is it that you need me for?"

"A person broke into one of our… top secret areas. They weren't someone that was normally allowed in, but they got past the wards somehow, and it's been put to me to figure it out, because I'm one of the only guys allowed to visit the place. I had a theory about _Stellas Flammam_, because I've heard of it before, but I don't know much about it."

"Oh, okay…"

They sat silently for a while before Draco spoke.

"Tell Blaise everything you told me on the way here," he told Hermione.

So she did.

"Okay… so there's a twenty-two year old out there somewhere who can cast the most powerful magic known to wizard kind; bloody brilliant…"

"You think Weas- the guy could have used that to get in?" Draco asked when Hermione finished. Hermione didn't seem to notice his slip-up, as she continued speaking, not even stopping to glance at him as she spoke to Blaise.

"A twenty-two year old use the 'via lucis'? I don't think so."

"Hold up, Granger… I thought you said it was _Stellas Flammam_."

"Well, it is, but… well, that's only the incantation. It's _technically _called 'via lucis', which is Latin for 'light the way'."

Blaise smirked. "You really are the brightest witch of our age, Granger."

Hermione smiled, a light blush creeping up her cheeks, and Draco felt himself become… _jealous?_ _No way!_

Well, all things considered, she was still _technically_ his girlfriend, so he had a right to be jealous. But that didn't mean he was _going_ to be.

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked at Blaise. "Maybe he got someone else to cast it for him?"

Hermione instantly shook her head. "It only works for the original caster, so… he wouldn't have been able to do that."

They sat in a thought-filled silence for a while before Hermione jumped slightly, getting an idea.

"Polyjuice Potion!" she yelled, slapping herself on the forehead repeatedly. "Why didn't I think of it before?"

Blaise and Draco met each other's eyes and blinked blankly at one another, after jumping slightly at her outburst.

Hermione groaned. "You two are so much like Harry and Ron."

The glares they sent her were as instantaneous as their protests.

"I am nothing like either of those two-!"

"-Slimy fucking gits and I have nothing in-!"

"_Alright!_" Hermione shouted over the top of them. Their eyes went wide, and their mouths hung open as they cut themselves off.

She huffed. "I was just saying; they used to do the same thing."

"Right…" Blaise managed.

Draco closed his mouth with an audible snap and looked at Hermione. "As you were saying…?"

"Oh, right," Hermione shook her head. "Polyjuice Potion," she paused. "You both know what that is, right?"

"If we say no, will you just continue anyway?" Blaise asked.

Hermione groaned again. "Polyjuice Potion is a potion that, when you add a hair from a particular person, allows you to physically transform into them for a certain amount of time, depending on how much you take. Understood?"

Blaise nodded.

"Okay, so, someone could have used Polyjuice Potion to transform into whoever you saw, Blaise, and they cast the 'via lucis' – for Godric's sake, Draco, _Stellas Flammam!_ – And then they could have tried to get in. I don't know how they could have changed their voice to sound like someone else's though – they did sound like the person they looked like, right?" At Blaise's nod, she continued. "Hmm, maybe a…" Hermione's voice trailed off and she got to her feet and walked to the bookshelf nearby, silently running her index finger along the spines. After a moment, she looked back at Draco. "You don't happen to have a copy of _Antiquissima deleniti_ anywhere, do you?"

"Anti... what now?"

"_Antiquissima deleniti,_" she repeated. "Most ancient spells?"

Blaise held the book that he'd been reading through before out to Hermione. "Here."

Hermione took it, feeling well within her element, and plonked herself down beside Draco, not caring that her knee was touching his. She began flipping through the pages, muttering the word 'mutare' under her breath.

"Ah ha!" she cried at last, jumping and slamming her finger on the page, causing Draco and Blaise to jolt in alarm, for what must have been the third time since Hermione had arrived. "Mutare vox – to change the voice of. This spell allows the caster to temporarily change their voice to that of another person, provided that they are in the same area when the spell is cast, and the, uh, _victim_ is facing the caster."

"Granger, are you saying what I think you're saying?" Blaise asked.

Draco continued to look on in bewilderment.

"That person – or someone appearing to be that person – cast two of the most powerful spells known to the ancient Wizarding world, and they're… well, I don't know what they're doing."

Blaise swallowed noticeably and shook his head. "The why is not important right now," he told her. "I need to know how… and who."

"The only way you can figure out _who_ is to find a piece of the person's hair on the scene and put it in an aqua revelare solution – which is just _augumenti _water spelled with 'Omni revelio' – and do a DNA test on what it leaves behind."

"And the how…?" Draco asked.

Hermione shrugged, closing the book in her lap slowly as she looked at him. "The only way you can figure that out is if you ask the person themselves… and until you figure out who they are, you can't figure out why or how they did it."

They sat in a comfortable silence as Blaise thought it over, and Hermione tapped the book in her lap nervously.

"Is… that all?"

"Oh," Blaise looked up from where he was staring vacantly at his feet and smiled. "Sure. Unless… Draco?"

Draco shook his head, giving Blaise a curious look before he turned to her. "You can go," he said.

Hermione smiled, handing him the book, and got to her feet. "I'll see you later, then?"

"Yeah," he replied, slightly awkwardly.

Hermione nodded and had just reached the door before Blaise called out.

"Hey, Granger!"

She turned back to look at him. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for your help," he said, beaming at her.

Slightly taken aback, she nodded. "You're welcome."

"Oh, and Granger?" he called out again as she began to turn. Draco thought that, judging by the slight flash of irritation in her eyes, she didn't like being called back too much. "Don't go anywhere alone, alright? Being who you are and staying with who you're with makes you a target, and we wouldn't want to lose you and those brains of yours."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, casting a curious glance at Draco, who shrugged.

She made to leave again, but turned back one last time, looking at Draco. "Will I see you for lunch later?"

"If I'm not working," Draco told her.

She smiled. "Alright," she looked at Blaise. "Bye, Blaise. It was… nice to see you again."

"You too, Granger; keep yourself safe, alright?"

"If I must," she said, and she was gone, pulling the door closed behind her.

Casting a silencing charm as soon as she was gone, Draco turned to his companion and glared at him.

"What?"

Draco just shook his head. "You think someone could have pretended to be Weasley to get to Hermione?"

Blaise smirked at Draco's use of Hermione's first name and nodded. "Yeah, I definitely do now. I just don't know who. Maybe we'd better get some Auror's around to put you under the Fidelius Charm."

"For the sake of her? That's… a bit extreme." Though, if he were being honest with himself, Draco would have said it was perfectly reasonable. But, because it was Granger... well, of course he couldn't think like that.

"Mate, you've wanted to do that since the end of the war, and I know it. Now you have a better excuse than protection of your mother… and Potter is bound to agree if it's for the sake of his best friend."

"No, not Potter… he'll want to know why, and then he'll think that we should tell her, and then he'll do it himself no matter what we say… and he might tell Weasley, anyway."

"Who should we get, then?"

"No one, we'll do it ourselves."

"Two people, Draco? That's… that's never been done." Blaise stared warily at his friend. "You need at least five people, and even then… it's difficult magic."

"We'll bring Nott in too, and my mother. That's four people… and we all excelled at Charms, anyway. We can do it, easy."

"Draco…" Blaise began warily.

"Blaise, there is someone out there who can cast two of the most powerful charms I've seen in my life. If they can do those themselves, I think four people can cast a Fidelius Charm."

"Who's gonna be your secret keeper, then?"

Draco hadn't thought of that.

Blaise smirked. "Me?"

"You don't mind?"

"You're my best mate," Blaise replied. "Besides, there's less chance of me talking to whoever this… person is than you or your mother, or even Granger. That makes you pretty safe."

"What'll we make the actual words?"

"Malfoy Manor?"

"Too easy, that could slip out in conversation."

"Malfoy's house?"

"Same for that," Draco replied. "And that's kind of stupid anyway."

Blaise glared at Draco, and then paused in thought. "What about Black Manor?"

Draco considered it for a moment. "Perfect."

* * *

><p><strong>An: Okay... so... that was kind of a long wait, but this is a fairly long-ish chapter, so you should forgive me. DO IT. ...please?**

**Did everyone like it?**

**I will point out now that, yes, Blaise is now an official part of the story and there will be some other characters joining in along the way.**

**I NEED HELP, THOUGH. I've got a character, right, and I can't decide whether to make her good or evil. YOU GET TO CHOOSE.**

**I won't tell you who it is, and _NO_, to clear up any initial thoughts, _SHE IS NOT THE PERSON AFTER HERMIONE_. XD**

**Just let me know whether you want another friend or foe in the story - if there's a tie of 'votes', I'll just add someone else in, because that is possible at this stage.**

**ANYONE EXCITED TO SEE THEO? CAUSE I AM! :P**

**Excerpt from a chapter coming up:**

_"Stay with me," she begged in a low voice, which was cracked from lack of use and crying, as she looked up at him._

_"I don't know if I should… it's…"_

_"Please," she asked, the rejection settling uncomfortably in her chest. "I- I need-"_

_Draco nodded, in understanding, pity or agreement of need, he didn't know, though it didn't bother him much if he didn't think about it._

_"Until you fall asleep," he promised, and he swore to himself silently that he definitely had to get around to beating himself up about all his actions._

**O_o You anxious to find out what's up yet, or do I need to do some illegal things? XD Just kidding, R&R&L chickadees.**

**This was a long a/n, but you don't mind, cause you love me... or, at least, you love my story (hopefully)**

**XD I LOVE YOU GUYS!**

**~ Originalitys**


	22. Informative Meetings

"Are you really serious about this, Draco? You don't have to do it if you don't wish to."

Draco ran a hand down his face. "For the last time, Mother: this is for _her_. I'm helping her get Felicity back, and then she'll be able to stay here _safely_ until Blaise and I figure out who's after her and why."

"Telling her would-"

"-completely ruin the plan we have, so don't you dare mention a thing."

"But-"

"You love her, don't you?"

"Of course I do! She's as much of a child to me as you are."

"So, you'll do anything to keep her safe?"

"Yes."

"Well _don't tell her_."

Narcissa huffed. "If I think, even for a moment, that telling her would be better for her-"

"-then you can tell her; _after_ you tell me_ why_ it's better for her to know."

Narcissa rolled her eyes and said nothing..

Draco silently got to his feet and made his way to the fireplace – they were in the parlour, having a discussion while Hermione got ready for the meeting she had in ten minutes time – and leaned against the mantle.

"You love her too, don't you?" his mother asked after a moment.

Staring blankly at her, Draco was silent for several moments before he found his voice. "Wh-what?"

He couldn't love Granger. It was _Granger_. His mother knew that… well, she was _supposed_ to, at least.

"You love her, too. But not like a family member."

"Of course I don't," Draco said quickly.

"Why are you doing all of this planning then? Why are you going to all this trouble when you could just let her go somewhere else?"

"To protect her."

"Why are you protecting her?"

"Because-" Draco stopped. Why _was _he going to all this effort for her? He never would have during their Hogwarts years; hell, he probably would have helped the person after her, well people would have expected him to, at least. He probably wouldn't have even offered to help her a year ago, or even a month ago... so why _now_? Why was she so important to him _now_? Why was it so crucial that she stay alive _now_? Draco knew the answer. Deep down, in a place where not even he wanted to venture, he knew the answer. He cared for her, yes, but there could have been more to it than that; more to it that he refused to admit, even to the deepest parts of his mind. But he refused to name the feeling. He refused to even think of it.

"Because she needs protecting," he managed finally, ignoring his mother's intense stare. "Someone is after her and for the sake of Felicity and herself, I'll do… I'll do all I can to protect her."

Narcissa simply shook her head and got to her feet. "I'll send Hermione down in a minute."

* * *

><p>Narcissa did as promised, and Hermione came solemnly into the parlour, dressed in shorts and a loose fitting white shirt, three minutes later.<p>

"Cheer up, Granger," Draco told her, pushing himself off the fireplace and walking towards her.

Hermione met his gaze, and managed a small smile to mirror the encouraging grin on his face, though more than anything, seeing the specks of blue in his eyes did cheer her up slightly, for some reason.

"That's better," he said, reaching out a hand as he approached her to knock her chin lightly with a single knuckle on his right hand, for reasons he refused to admit, before reaching down to grasp her left hand with it.

"Ready?"

"No," Hermione answered.

As she felt the familiar pull of apparition, her hand tightened around Draco's, and for a second, she swore he squeezed her hand back.

* * *

><p>"Anyone ask for me, Tom?" Hermione asked as they approached the bar of the Leaky Cauldron, the two of them still firmly gripping each other's hands in their own. Tom eyed them warily before nodding.<p>

"Woman's out back," the old barkeep said. "Right lunatic, she is. Told me you's was coming to-"

Hermione and Draco never heard what Tom had been told though, because a shout of 'Hermione!' had them turning their attention elsewhere.

Fred Weasley came bounding towards them, a smile on his face, and he quickly enveloped Hermione in a tight hug.

"It's so good to see you!" he said. "Hey, Malfoy," he added as an afterthought, eyeing their hands curiously.

Draco nodded in response, tightening his grip on Hermione's hand slightly.

"Yeah, you too Fred," Hermione replied, beaming. "What're you doing here?"

"Ah, just hanging around. George's on the shop today and I thought I'd go for a wander, help Tommy out with business. What about you, Granger?"

"I, uh, have to meet someone for… information on…." Hermione trailed off, unsure whether Fred knew about the trials at all.

"The trial for Lissy?" he finished, answering her unspoken question.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah… Ron's not here yet, is he?"

"Yeah," Fred said, shoving one of his hands into his pocket. "Brought that bloody Jones fellow with him, too. They're out back talking to some blonde ninny." Fred used his free hand to gesture over his shoulder with his thumb. "It's the second door on the left, if you're wondering."

"Thanks Fred." Hermione checked her watch. "Oh, we'd better go!"

"Granger, it doesn't matter if we're late," Draco said, speaking for the first time and pulling her back by the hand he still held.

"It does so!" Hermione protested.

"Hate to say it, 'Mione, but Malfoy's right. This is just an information meeting – they'll send letters to you afterwards, explaining everything they mentioned – so you barely need to be there."

Taken aback, Hermione stopped struggling against Draco. "Since when did you know so much about that?"

Fred shrugged. "You weren't the only one that studied during school, 'Mione."

"You never studied!"

"Not around you," Fred said, smirking.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione looked at Draco. "Can we just go? I want to get this over with."

Sighing, Draco nodded. "Alright." Hermione pulled her hand from his, slowly this time, and began making her way out back, with a call of 'Bye Fred' as she went. Draco and Fred watched her go, before the former turned to the latter and smiled slightly. "Later, Weasley."

Just as he made his way past him, Fred put a hand on Draco's shoulder to stop him, and looked him in the eye. "Protect her, Malfoy. She's not as good at this as she says she is."

Confused, Draco gave a slight nod.

"I'm serious. Do whatever it takes. There's… just…. Never mind. Look after her in any way you can."

"If I have to," Draco said.

"You really do. Promise me, Malfoy. Give me your word. You'll do whatever you can to protect her."

"Done," Draco replied, without hesitation, surprising them both.

Nodding, Fred released him, and Draco began walking before he was turned back again.

"I know what you did for her at the last trials," Fred said. "Thank you for that."

"No worries, Weasley."

Nodding one last time, Fred disappeared out the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, and Draco made to follow Hermione, who appeared again after noticing he was missing.

"Everything alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," Draco said, shrugging. "Weasley was just giving me the usual threats I get when I go near you. 'Don't hurt her.' 'I'll kill you if you do anything'. No big deal."

Hermione smiled, not noticing the lie, and took his hand, pulling him with her to the door behind which Ron, Derek and the representative were now talking.

"Ready?" Draco asked her once again.

Hermione shook her head 'no'.

"If it goes for more than twenty minutes, we can leave," Draco promised.

Hermione nodded and gave his hand a squeeze. "Let's go."

She pushed open the door, and promptly stopped in her tracks.

* * *

><p>What they were met with on the opposite side of the door had Hermione wanting to scream and run far away. In fact, she did scream, much to Draco's shock.<p>

"_Lavender?_"

"Hermione! You're here!" the blonde haired woman ran forward and embraced Hermione, knocking her backwards slightly into Draco, who released Hermione's hand and caught her waist instead, and he didn't let her go, even when Lavender pulled away from the hug and beamed at the pair of them.

"L-Lavender, what- what are you doing here?"

"Oh," Lavender smiled. "I'm the representative from the Ministry. Marsha was going to come, but she had a-"

"Meeting?" Draco supplied.

Lavender nodded, giving him a once over, which made Hermione step closer to him for some reason. "Can I ask what… you're doing here, Malfoy?"

Draco nodded at Hermione. "I'm with her."

"Indeed," Lavender said knowingly, eyeing his hands on Hermione's waist. "Well, Ron and Derek are over here, so I suppose we'd better get started."

Hermione nodded, and she and Draco followed after Lavender, who lead them to a table in the corner of the room that Ron and Derek were seated at, having a heated discussion.

"-Shouldn't be doing th-"

"-Have to for the sake of-"

"Trouble in paradise, Weasley?" Draco asked, taking a seat next to Hermione, who sat across the table from Derek.

Both Derek and Ron scowled at him in eerily similar ways, and Lavender cleared her throat roughly, knocking a pile of papers together and setting them down.

"Right, you know why we're here, and I guess you want this to go as fast as possible, so I'll get right to it," she began, and Hermione found herself shocked that Lavender seemed to have grown up a lot since their schooling years; there was no longer any cute voices or immature noises and comments, she was completely business – a trait which Hermione found she very much preferred over school-girl squealing.

"We're holding week-long investigations of each of your living arrangements and, as of the first, Felicity will spend up until the seventh with Ron," Lavender paused and read off a piece of parchment on the table in front of her. "Then there will be a one day period where she's back in Ministry care, and from the ninth to the sixteenth she will be with Hermione. Is this understood?" Lavender looked from Hermione, to Ron, to Derek, and then her eyes rested finally on Draco, who gave a nod under her stern gaze.

"From the seventeenth to the twentieth, you will each undergo a one day inspection of your lives _without_ Felicity, while she will be placed in the care of the foster family with which she is currently staying while the results of your investigations are compared and analysed. On the twenty-first a trial will be held to reveal who the Ministry believes are the better carer, and she will be placed in the care of that person – though I should mention that there will be a one week waiting period during which her health will be checked and the foster family may say goodbye if they so wish – and she will be given to the… right person… on the twenty-eighth. Should you decide the court has been unfair, you will have to wait a minimum of six months until you present your case to the Department again, and we will get to that if it happens. Any questions?"

"Yeah," Draco said. "Why is there a _waiting period_ for a child?"

"Malfoy, I already told you," Lavender reminded him. Ron snickered, but quickly stopped when Draco glared at him.

"I'm _sorry_," he said sarcastically. "But I don't understand why you can't just bring her to the trial and give her back to He- to whoever gets to take her."

"In order to stop the spread of diseases such as Dragon Pox – with which I'm sure you're familiar – it is necessary for anyone changing families to undergo a week of quarantine before being released. It's a matter of public safety, Malfoy."

Draco made to argue, but Hermione placed a calming hand on his knee underneath the table to stop him, and she left it there when he rested his hand over it.

"Anything else?" Lavender queried, tapping her pink manicured nails on the parchment before her. Hermione found herself recalling the quote 'old habits die hard' as she noticed them.

"What happens during the investigations?" Ron asked.

Lavender flicked through a few pieces of paper before pulling one out and reading from it.

"The investigator – who you will not know nor meet prior to your meeting, as a precaution – will inspect your living quarters; the child in question's quarters and the surrounding area. They will ask a few necessary questions about history and such, and relationships, and any other information they deem necessary for making the right decision."

"What about work?" Hermione asked. She was due to start her new job on the same day the investigations began with Ron, and she'd only be in her second week when it was her turn. What was she going to do with Lissy during that time? _Oh_, Hermione resisted the urge to slap her forehead. _Of course! Narcissa! Her day-care centre!_

"Your work schedule should continue as normal, but if you wish, the Ministry can give you paid leave for the duration of your investigation."

"Alright," she said, though she planned on working anyway.

"Is that all?"

Everyone in the room nodded, and Lavender began packing up the parchment in her hands into a briefcase she picked up from the floor. "A letter will be sent in the next few days reiterating what was said here, in case you forget."

Finished packing up, she jumped when she saw they were still there. "Oh," she smiled. "You can go," she said, and Hermione was on her feet quickly, Draco following suit and reaching for her hand, despite himself, as a need to be connected to her suddenly filled him. He caught sight of her expression, and judging by the lack of shock there, she had expected it – in fact, he noticed she looked quite grateful, as if she needed it as much as he did. He decided to think on that later.

They made their way, together, to the door, but a call stopped them just as Draco reached forward and opened it.

"Hermione?" Ron asked.

She stopped, and Draco felt her hand tighten in his as she looked over her shoulder at him.

Lavender and Derek made their way out the open door in the silence that followed, and Hermione and Draco turned together to face Ron.

"Do you mind if I speak to you for a minute?" he asked. "Alone?"

Hermione and Draco locked eyes and she nodded. "I'll be alright," she told him, though she was reassuring herself more than him.

Nodding reluctantly, Draco gave her hand a tentative squeeze, which she returned, before releasing her. "Call me if you need anything," he said quietly, and closed the door behind him before leaning against the wall outside. He cast a _muffliato_ spell in the direction of the more-public part of the Leaky Cauldron and began to wait.

* * *

><p>"So…" Ron began after a moment. "…you and Malfoy, huh?"<p>

Hermione just nodded as they stared at each other.

"It's official, then?"

Another nod.

"You can't just not talk to me, Hermione; that stopped working after sixth year."

"Yeah, after that we went straight to leaving the other behind," Hermione said, her tone accusing.

"You left too, 'Mione," he reminded her. "And for way longer than I ever did."

"I left to find my family, Ron… after the war was over and everything was getting back to normal. I didn't desert my friends because I thought they'd forgotten me… I didn't leave anyone when they needed me."

Ron was on his feet in a second. "Don't hold that against me!" He yelled. "I regret that, okay? I regret it more than anything! I left you and Harry and I'm sorry!"

"I don't care!" Hermione screamed, silently praying no one heard them. "That's in the past, and I'm not holding that against you! Just like _you_ shouldn't be holding _this_ against _me_! I'm back, aren't I?"

"_No!"_ Ron bellowed, and then he suddenly quieted. "You're not back. You've come back physically, maybe, but mentally, you're still off in fucking la-la land!"

"What the hell is _that _supposed to mean?"

"You're with _Malfoy_, for Merlin's sake! You can't be right in the head if you think _he'd_ be a better father than me! He's an evil prejudiced _bastard_ who's no more of a man than Laven-"

"He's more of a man than you could _ever_ be, Ronald Weasley!"

Ron paused. Outside the door, Draco's eyes widened in shock. As the yelling increased, he decided if it lasted more than five minutes longer, he was going to interrupt.

"I told you. You're completely off your rocker," Ron said.

"I am not off my rocker, you bastard! You are!"

"I bloody well am not!"

"You're trying to steal my _daughter_, Ron! _My daughter! _How sane does that seem to you?"

"She's my daughter too!"

"No, she's not!" Hermione shrieked. "_And you fucking know it_!"

As she swore, Ron's eyes widened and he stood completely still. On the other side of the door, Draco smirked.

"She's my daughter, Hermione," Ron murmured quietly.

"She's not!" Hermione yelled, not quiet in the least. She was suddenly filled with the need to hit something, and she was willing to bet her life it would be Ron.

Ron took a few tentative steps forward, and just as he reached out a hand to put it on her shoulder, Hermione gave in to her urges and punched him square in the face, and she smiled almost maniacally when she heard the crunch of it breaking.

"Don't touch me, you home-wrecking prick!" she shouted, and she briefly heard the door open behind her as she punched Ron again – in the gut this time.

Doubling over, one hand on his stomach, the other on his now blood-covered face, Ron stared up at her, eyes teary, and he looked _scared_. He'd never seen Hermione like this before. She'd hit him before, sure, but never like this. She'd never hit _anyone_ like this. It was terrifying, to say the least. Hermione's smile dropped and she stared at him, just as scared as he was. He was her best friend, and she'd just broken his nose without a second thought. She began reaching for her wand, but Ron stepped back in fear and shook his head, so she stilled.

"Dat bastar's wubbin' owf on 'oo," he managed, before pulling an old spoon out of his pocket and disappearing, glaring at Draco as he did.

Wiping the small dots of blood off her knuckles onto her shorts, Hermione suddenly lost hold of all the adrenaline that had filled her when she first hit Ron. As she did, it rushed out of her in short quick shudders, making her shake where she stood.

Seeing her beginning to shake and fall, Draco stepped out of the doorway, pocketed his wand, and looped an arm around her waist while grabbing her hand in his.

"Impressive, Granger," he told her softly, smirking as he leaned down to her ear.

Hermione nodded numbly, and she reached up with her free hand to latch onto his arm around her, her other hand tightening in his.

"You alright?"

She shook her head, and pushed his arm away from her body and pulled her hand from his.

"Wh-?" Draco began, but cut himself off as Hermione turned around and pushed her head against his chest, looping her arms around him.

"J-Just h-hold me…" she pleaded, guilty tears forming behind her closed eyelids, and he did.

They stood silently for ten minutes before Tom came to them and told them there was some kind of function going on, so they needed to leave.

Nodding, Draco tightened his hold on Hermione with one arm and used the other to pull his wand from his pocket before he apparated them both back to the Manor's parlour.

* * *

><p>"Hermione! Oh, Hermione, dear, are you alright?" Narcissa's voice surrounded Hermione, and she clutched tighter to Draco. She didn't want to talk to anyone. She just wanted to stand there, completely still, in his arms and not move until Lissy was returned to her. She wanted to stay stock still and let the world pass her by.<p>

"I don't think she wants to talk right now, Mother," Draco said quietly, his hands rubbing her back gently as he spoke.

Narcissa smiled sadly, though Hermione couldn't see it, and she patted her once on the shoulder. "I'll talk to you later then, love," she said, and she gave Draco a pointed look as she spoke the endearment, which he decided to ignore.

"Come on, Granger. I think you should rest for a bit," he said, and he apparated them to her room, leaving his mother and her suggesting stares behind.

He gently lifted Hermione up by the waist and carried her to the bed, which he sat her down on softly, before letting her go and stepping back. As her hand ran down his arm, she caught hold of his own tightly in hers and shook her head.

"Stay with me," she begged in a low voice, which was cracked from lack of use and crying, as she looked up at him.

"I don't know if I should… it's…"

"Please," she asked, the rejection settling uncomfortably in her chest. "I- I need-"

Draco nodded, in understanding, pity or agreement of need, he didn't know, though it didn't bother him much if he didn't think about it.

"Until you fall asleep," he promised, and he swore to himself silently that he definitely had to get around to beating himself up about all his actions.

Giving him a weak smile, Hermione kicked off her shoes and pulled back into the centre of the bed, feeling slightly awkward as Draco followed closely behind her. To distract herself from watching him, she shoved her wand under the pillow closest to her – which she had dubbed _his_ pillow after Tuesday – and she turned to look at him as he looked at her.

"Covers or no?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"No," he replied, shaking his head for emphasis.

Nodding, Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath.

"You alright, Granger?" Draco asked warily.

"Fine," she told him gently, beginning to lie down. She found it easier when she couldn't see him. "Just… I don't know."

Draco followed suit, nodding, even though her eyes were closed. "Okay."

They simultaneously shifted closer to each other, their arms brushing against each other's, and, with her eyes still closed, Hermione turned on her side, pushing herself closer to him.

"Is-" she paused nervously. "Is this… okay?"

Draco let out a hum of approval and closed his own eyes, and within minutes, they were both asleep.

* * *

><p>Waking up two hours later, Hermione once again with her head on his chest, her arm across his stomach appearing asleep, Draco found himself wondering if it was going to be a regular thing to wake up with Hermione in his arms. Sighing in contentment, he closed his eyes again and didn't move.<p>

Hermione was wondering the same thing about waking up in his arms as she lay contentedly, awake, on top of him, unbeknownst to him, and she let out her own sigh as he did, not moving from her place, even though she somehow knew he was awake.

Neither of them was uncomfortable, for now, and both of them were hoping – even if they wouldn't admit it to the other person or to themselves – that it _would_ be something that happened again; to wake up in the other's arms.

They both found themselves admitting, silently, that, when they were together, they each had the best sleep they'd had in years… and the prospect of their futures dug firmly into the forefront of their minds – each hoping the other would somehow be a part of it, if only so they could get a good night's sleep every night.

As Hermione shifted above Draco, there was a knock and a call of her name from the direction of the door, and she moaned at pressed herself closer against Draco's chest.

"Granger…" he sighed, raising the arm that wasn't looped around her to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"I don't want to move," she told him, her breath ruffling his shirt slightly, and then added hastily, "I'm too tired."

"She won't leave," he replied after a slight pause, and there was an emphasising knock on the door to her room from Narcissa.

"Hermione, a letter's come for you! It's from the Ministry!"

Hermione rolled her head to stare at the door across Draco's chest, which slowly rose and fell beneath her head. "I guess I should answer it then…" she muttered.

Draco nodded, twisting a loose curl of her hair behind her back.

Sighing, Hermione pushed herself off Draco and pulled her hair – which had been out, and was now a knotted mess – back to the nape of her neck.

Feeling lazy, she climbed over Draco, who lay still, and bounced her way to the edge of the bed before standing up. She made her way to the door and pulled it open, just as Narcissa raised her hand to knock again.

"Oh, Hermione!" the older witch beamed. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes," Hermione replied, stuttering over a yawn, which made Draco chuckle behind her.

"Oh," Narcissa said suddenly, her smile fading as she looked around Hermione to her son sitting on the edge of the bed. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Huh? Oh – I – uh, no… we – it-" Hermione's cheeks flushed red and she rubbed her collarbone nervously.

"We were _asleep_, Mother," Draco told her, his tone slightly venomous. "That's all."

Hermione nodded in agreement and Narcissa turned to her, holding out a letter.

"I didn't open it, but there's a Ministry seal on it."

"Thank you," Hermione said, taking it from her and beginning to open it.

Seeing the envelope, Draco made his way over and stood behind Hermione, perhaps a little too closely, because his mother sent him a knowing look, which made him feel like rolling his eyes.

Once she finished reading it, Hermione handed the letter to Narcissa while she spoke to Draco.

"It's just what Lavender told us today at the meeting, that's all. Fred was right."

"Huh," Draco said. "The Weasley kid was-"

Draco stopped as a look passed over Hermione's face and she pushed herself past him, breathing out a familiar trio of letters. He turned to face after her and she stopped at the edge of her bed, staring at the dresser.

"Hermione?"

She looked up at him and the anger in her eyes made his widen in shock.

"What is-?"

"It couldn't be," she breathed, her eyes widening as her thoughts pieced together.

"What?"

"_Why did I burn those letters?_" Hermione screamed suddenly, causing Narcissa to jump as she scrunched her eyes shut and reached up to fist her hair.

"Burn the-?" Narcissa began.

"I should have recognised it, but they have products for that!" she yelled, her hair falling over her face as she glared at the floor. She pushed it back angrily and looked up at the blonde man across the room.

"It had to be someone alive," she said, staring at Draco and begging silently for him to get it. "It had to be someone who knew me, someone who knew about what was going on, someone who knew everyone involved. It had to be someone who knew that _he _wasn't the right person for her to go to. It _had_ to be. But I wasn't thinking _friend_ I was thinking _fan_. I was thinking someone who knew me from the _war_, but not _personally_. I was looking in all the wrong places!"

The thoughts clicked together in Draco's mind, and Hermione must have seen it in his eyes or on his face, because a brilliant smile was suddenly on hers, and he found himself beaming back at her, across the room.

"You think it could be-?"

"It has to," she answered. "It _has to_."

Draco realised something suddenly and took a step towards her, just as she took one towards him. "That's how he knew about-!"

Hermione nodded, still beaming, and they each took another step forward. "And he works at the Ministry sometimes, so he knows when-!"

"-why he saw us at-!"

"-knew about the-!"

"You really think it's-?"

In lieu of answering, Hermione, overcome with joy at her discovery, ran the few feet between them and flung herself at Draco, looping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he caught her, and planted an over-excited kiss right on his lips.

Shocked, Draco remained still for a few seconds, his hands holding her up by the back of her thighs, and just as she began pulling away, he pushed his head forward to catch her lips with his and kissed her back.

Hermione couldn't help but notice how warm and soft his lips were, and she admitted silently to herself that he did _sort of_ taste good… _very _good.

Draco, on the other hand, was enjoying himself too much to give much thought to anything.

Narcissa smiled to herself and coughed politely after a few moments.

Pulling herself away from Draco, Hermione used one hand to brush a stray curl from her face and, once she removed her legs from around him, Draco set her on her feet and they each took a step back.

Hermione wanted to say something – _anything_ – but she couldn't seem to find her voice. She began to wonder what the _hell_ she'd been thinking. First she'd shared a bed with him, and then she'd _kissed _him! _Malfoy!_ She was completely off her tree!

Though, she did have to admit – kissing him wasn't as bad as she might have thought. He was a _good_ kisser; his lips were soft, he didn't force his tongue into her mouth, and he'd let her lead as much as she'd let him lead… and he tasted good, too; sweet, nice… he tasted like _Draco_. That was the only way to describe it.

"Would either of you like to fill me in on what just happened?" Narcissa asked after the silence went on for over two minutes.

"Uh… which part?" Hermione asked, blushing.

"Who was this 'He' you were talking about? And what did the letters have to do with it?"

"Oh, uh," Hermione smiled nervously and cleared her throat. "The T.F.W person; it's… well, I – we-" she stuttered, and began to blush as she cut herself off.

Draco took the opportunity to speak, with a curious glance at Hermione.

"It's Fred," he told his mother. "Fred Weasley."

* * *

><p><strong>An: Okay, some of you may have seen this chapter before I added the A/N cause I forgot to add it the first time, but I just deleted it and this is the second trial type thing. XD**

**Anyway... I won't tell you if they're right about T.F.W because... THEY MIGHT BE WRONG. ZOMG. THERE'S A SHOCKER. No, but really, they don't even have that much evidence, so don't believe everything you read.**

**IN OTHER NEWS. Roleplay blog - itswarathogwartsrp ON TUMBLR- I'M LUNA (there's a link on the RP directory). SOMEONE JOIN AS BLAISE SO I CAN START ON MY SHIP, DAMMIT. :P**

**IN OTHER OTHER NEWS. There is interesting stuff coming up. I SWEAR. This story is going to get better. WAY BETTER. WAY MORE BETTER THAN IT ALREADY APPARENTLY IS ACCORDING TO SOME PEOPLE.**

**Oh, and... since there's no reviews to really _answer_, I thought I'd just take the time to thank some people.**

**_Native-kitten_: **You were the very first person to review, so, really, that deserves a THANK YOU. You made me want to keep going.

_**KraZiiePyrosHavemoreFun**_: You never fail to cheer me up with your comments, really. THANK YOU SO MUCH.

_**Lingo10:**_You really are a lovely person. That's honestly all I can think to say, aside from the fact that you always leave wonderful reviews, and you answer the questions I ask honestly and nicely, which is more than I could ask for in itself. THANK YOU. YOU ARE WONDERFUL.

**TempestDashon_**:**_ Even though you only recently found my story, you're still just as important as the rest of these guys, so THANK YOU. THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU. I really hope you stick around to read the ending!**

**_AND TO EVERYONE ELSE WHO I DIDN'T MENTION ABOVE:_ **Don't think for a second that just because you weren't mentioned above you're not important. You really are. Without you guys, _all of you_, there wouldn't be much point in me writing this. So I want to thank you all for that. You're all brilliant.

**OH, and a little bit of information for you - you review this, and I check out what you've written to. You'd be surprised how well most of you can actually write.**

**R&R&L sweeties!**

**~Originalitys.**

**_P.S (spoilers warning here) DATES._**

**That's all I'm saying.**


	23. Charms and Dresses

Deciding that she couldn't very well confront Fred about what he was doing, as she didn't want to scare off his help, Hermione decided to just let Fred do whatever he wanted to help her; and besides, she told herself, she didn't know if it was actually _Fred_ who was helping her out. It could have been anyone.

It was later that night, though, that she received another letter. Though it wasn't signed, Hermione suspected it was from either Fred or Blaise, judging by what they said.

_Granger, don't go anywhere alone. There are people out there that not even Draco can protect you from._

The next eight days were fairly quiet. On the first of April, Hermione began her new job at Regulation and Control and, to her surprise, she wasn't treated like she had been during the few days after the war had ended. Of course, people were shocked to see her, but they treated her no differently than they would any other new employee, though they were, perhaps, nicer, when she made mistakes, although they were a rare occurrence when considering Hermione.

Hermione found herself worrying, almost constantly, about Lissy and how well she was doing, if she was okay, how Ron was treating her and, although it made her feel guilty, she found herself hoping that Ron wasn't doing so well with his inspections – at least everywhere that Lissy wasn't concerned. She didn't want any harm to come to her daughter.

Meanwhile, Blaise, it seemed, had taken it upon himself to be her escort while she was at work, – if he wasn't out on business – he walked her from her office to wherever she was heading, he met her at the Floo every morning – something that confused her, as she arrived at a different one every morning, and at different times – and he ate with her in the cafeteria whenever he could. He even personally delivered letters from his department to hers, and walked her to, or met her at, the Floo every afternoon, too.

Hermione found the sudden niceties comforting, in a way. Blaise was something stable in her life all of a sudden, and she found that she needed that. Though she couldn't help but notice that there was something different about the hug she gave him one afternoon – it seemed to be missing something, much like her routine had in the past week. There was an element that was missing from _everything_ in her life, and it had a lot to do with a certain blonde-haired wizard, though Hermione refused to admit to herself that he was the _sole _reason the hug didn't feel quite right.

Draco had, since the Wednesday of the last meeting, avoided her almost entirely. She said _almost_, because, despite her not seeing him at all during the day, there'd been some kind of silent arrangement made between the pair that, so long as the other left their door unlocked, they were free to enter each other's rooms at night, purely for the comfort the other's arms offered.

Each night, Hermione went to bed fairly early, as per usual, and just as she was drifting off around an hour later, Draco would slip into her room, hidden by the shadows left when the lights were out, and they would sleep beside each other, curled up in silence. He disappeared each morning before Hermione was awake, and although she didn't really mind, she found it somewhat saddening that he never stayed. The empty bed she woke to each day seemed to cause the hole in Hermione's heart from the loss of Lissy's presence to burn and widen, and, even though Blaise's hugs were nice, they failed to offer the comfort that Draco's arms did.

* * *

><p>On the afternoon of the eighth, as Hermione was walking through the Atrium, on her way to meet Blaise at whichever fireplace he'd decided to use that day, a hand grabbed her wrist suddenly and she was spun on the spot and slammed into someone's chest – a familiar one at that – and arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a warm embrace.<p>

"Afternoon, sweetheart," a voice Hermione was well acquainted with drawled.

Hermione felt the arms that were around her loosen and she pulled away, looking up into the smiling face of Draco Malfoy. The sight made something in her chest flutter, but she ignored it as his smile faltered and he looked around.

"Sweetheart? Really?" Hermione whispered hoarsely, staring up at him curiously as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

"All for appearances, dear," he told her quietly, bending down suddenly to pick her up by the waist, keeping his face close to her ear.

"Squeal and tell me to put you down as soon as I spin you around," he told her.

Before she could think of any kind of response, he was spinning her around and, at a look from Draco, she put on a fake smile, squealed in what she hoped sounded like delight, and yelled at him to put her down. Other Ministry workers walking past stared at the pair and, recognising them immediately, began whispering between themselves as they walked past, not wanting to be caught staring at the obviously personal moment.

As Hermione regained her footing, Draco began gently rubbing his thumbs in circles on her waist and he leaned down to press his face against her neck, whispering quietly as people passed them by.

"Don't freak out, alright?"

"Fr-?" she began, eyes wide, but before she even finished the first word, Draco's lips were on hers and her eyes had closed of their own accord, and she was kissing him back. They kissed, for longer than was necessary to appear as they couple they were supposed to be, perhaps, but neither seemed to mind.

A whistle or two sounded behind them and they broke apart quickly, Hermione looking down as her face flushed and Draco smiling with his lips slightly swelled.

"Well, that was certainly unexpected," a deep voice called.

Draco and Hermione turned and found a smirking Blaise watching them from a few feet away. Before either of them could speak, he continued, his expression turning grave.

"As much as I hate to interrupt this… little PDA you've got going on, but, I, uh… there's something we need to talk about, Draco," he said. "It's… about that project I told you about. Something else has shown up."

Understanding, Draco nodded and he turned back to Hermione, his signature smirk forming on his face. "Well, _sweetheart_," he very near cooed. His expression dropped suddenly and he was frowning. "As much as it pains me, I've got work to do."

Playing along, Hermione frowned too. "Okay…" she said, resisting the urge to gag at how _cute_ she sounded. Draco's lips twitched and she knew he was trying to hold back a laugh. "Will I see you later?"

Smiling in a way that made Hermione's heart flutter again, Draco nodded, taking one of her hands and pulling it to his lips to plant a chaste kiss on her knuckles. "Tonight, we're going out," he said. "Just you and me."

"Where?" Hermione asked. Her curiosity, at that moment, was far from faked.

"It's a surprise," he said and, with a last kiss to her cheek, he and Blaise walked away, back to the lifts at the opposite end of the Atrium.

* * *

><p>"I contacted Theo and your mother, they're waiting at the manor," Blaise said.<p>

"Brilliant. We have to wait until Granger gets home though."

Smirking, Blaise nodded, and then he frowned. "You're going to have to tell her about this, you know."

"Only about the charm."

"She'll figure it all out, though."

"I hope for her sake it takes her longer than normal," Draco said, looking back over his shoulder to see Hermione touching her cheek and walking in the opposite direction. If he'd been paying any attention to what he was doing himself, he would have noticed that he was rubbing a finger across his lips too.

* * *

><p>Smiling faintly to herself for a reason she was too distracted to think about, Hermione touched her cheek gently and walked towards a fireplace.<p>

"Nice catch, Granger," someone called.

Hermione turned to see an unfamiliar witch walking towards her, her long black hair swaying around her shoulders as she approached the brunette. Hermione noted that the woman looked like a perfectly made porcelain doll – ruby red lips, pale skin, high cheekbones, perfectly straight teeth and shiny hair – well, perfect, if you ignored the scowl on her face. She was a porcelain doll, she thought, with a brief pain to her chest, that many men – such as Draco – would find attractive, especially standing next to someone like herself. Dismissing the thought and deciding to berate herself about it later, Hermione blinked a few times to clear her head and stared at the woman approaching her.

"I'm sorry?"

"Draco Malfoy," the witch said, crossing her arms across her chest. "He's… quite a catch for… someone like you."

_Obviously a pureblood supremacist,_ Hermione thought, suddenly wondering why she'd expected any less of the seemingly-perfect woman.

"Yes, well," Hermione began. "I don't believe status has anything to do with it, but... thank you for your input." She gave a fake smile and nodded.

Giving an evidently sarcastic smile, the strange witch nodded too. "How long have you and Draco been together? I don't remember hearing about him being in a relationship recently."

"I'm sorry," Hermione heard someone say, just as she opened her mouth to answer. "But I don't believe that's any of your business, Ms Greengrass."

The woman – Ms Greengrass – stared past Hermione and a glare became apparent on her features. Hermione turned around and came face to face with Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff boy Hermione remembered from her school years. He smiled briefly at her before returning his cold stare to the Greengrass woman behind her.

"I _do_ believe, however, that you are required elsewhere at the present time, _Astoria_."

"Justin," Astoria said coldly, ignoring all the things he'd said. "So nice to see you."

"Yes," he replied, his voice sarcastic. "I'm sure it is. Don't you have other people to threaten, Greengrass?"

"I wasn't threatening anyone, Fletchley," she argued. "I am merely curious."

"Well it's none of your business anyway, so I suggest you leave."

Astoria glared at Justin, but said nothing more than half a sentence. "If you weren't my superior, Fletchley," she began.

"I would be a very happy man," he finished, glaring back at her.

Huffing, the Greengrass woman walked to Hermione, handed her a single piece of parchment, and walked away, disappearing in a burst of green flames moments later, leaving Hermione staring at the sealed piece of paper in confusion.

"Sorry about that," Justin said, looking finally at Hermione after watching Astoria disappear. "She's been in a bitchy mood since I partnered her with Benedict – he's a muggle-born Hufflepuff, like me, which just happens to make him two things she _really_ doesn't like."

Hermione nodded, pocketed the parchment Astoria had given her, and smiled up at the man who she used to know.

"So," he said, smiling. "You and Malfoy are official, then?"

Hermione nodded, working hard to refrain from wincing at the memory of the last time she'd heard those words.

"If you don't mind me asking, how long _have_ you been together?"

Hermione paused for a moment, but decided she could afford to tell the truth to Justin… or, at least, some of the truth. Looking around to see if anyone was listening, she took a few steps so she was closer to him and lowered her voice slightly. "It's only recent that we became an _official_ couple, but… we've been together, I guess you'd say, for just over a month."

Nodding, Justin spoke. "I'll admit, I heard rumours that you two were seen at Diagon Alley about a month ago, but I had my doubts. Then people started saying you lived together, which… well, I found that even less plausible. And I saw the _Prophet_'s article, but… to see you snogging in the middle of the Ministry's Atrium… it's all true, isn't it? I mean, I know that the kid you were with isn't his, because… well, she's too old to be his. You'd have to have been together just after the war ended for that to happen."

Hermione nodded again and stifled a laugh. "It's quite weird, isn't it?"

Justin rubbed the back of his head, stared at the ground and widened his eyes, as if thinking of a way to say something.

"Yeah," he said finally. "I never thought I'd live to see the day that you and Malfoy weren't trying to kill each other with glares. It's a little weird, considering I don't know the _whole_ story."

"He's been… helping me out. We just grew close, due to… certain circumstances, and we found… comfort… in each other. After seeing that article, too… all the magazines went on and on about how in love we were and _why_ and I suppose… one of us saw sense in it and convinced the other we should give it a shot. It was a while ago now, so… I don't even remember which one of us it was," Hermione said. She let out what she hoped was a convincingly nervous chuckle and tugged on the hem of her shirt.

Justin let out a low whistle and smiled at her before glancing at his watch. "Oh, wow, I've got to go. I'll see you later?"

Hermione smiled, for real this time, and nodded. "Of course."

Justin started turning to head to a fireplace, but stopped and looked back to her. "Oh, before I go… Which department are you in?"

"Regulation and Control," she said. "Being Division."

Justin smiled at her. "Maybe I'll see you round."

Hermione returned the smile, and Justin turned to disappear into a burst of green flames a few moments later.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione walked into her own fireplace and returned to the manor, straight into the parlour, where she sat on one of the couches and pulled out the piece of parchment from Astoria. She was met with a page of elegant script, each letter perfectly curled and obviously written by a well-taught hand.

_Hermione,_

_I apologise in advance for the way I might have acted before giving you this letter. It was of the utmost importance that I do not appear, in public, to want anything to do with you, as, because of my family, being seen acting civil to you would, potentially, cause a great deal of problems. I've been informed, rather recently, that you and Draco Malfoy are staying at the Manor together, and I would like, first and foremost, to warn you that, while all the Dark artefacts have been removed from the Manor itself, a great deal of Dark magic remains within the walls. I want to tell you that, no matter how innocent something may appear to be – whether it is a portrait or an empty hallway – that you do approach everything within the manor's boundaries with the highest amount of caution. The trials you are currently involved in – yes, Hermione, everyone does know about them. There are few people who can keep a secret within the Ministry – require you to undergo a series of investigations and, if you want to keep your daughter, I suggest you call on one of your Auror friends to cast a few charms over that house. The manor holds many secrets, Hermione, and if a person of your – please excuse me – heritage were to uncover them, the results would be… less than pleasant._

_Please keep yourself safe, Hermione, and I know Draco will not allow any harm to come to you. I've been reliably informed that he does, in fact, care for you – more, perhaps, than he cares about anyone else – and he will do all he can to protect you, so long as you do the same._

_I will warn you, however: he is not someone you want to cross. Do not presume that the emotionless expressions he harbours are what he is feeling. He cares about people a great deal, and should any of those people cross him in any way, he could suffer badly._

_He has been through far worse than you can imagine, and as a friend of his, I beg of you – do not cause him any more harm, nor yourself._

_Keep safe._

_Astoria Greengrass_

Hermione stared, wide eyed, at the piece of paper, and blinked multiple times to clear her head.

_He does, in fact, care for you – more, perhaps, than he cares about anyone else – and he will do all he can to protect you._

Those were the only words that her brain refused to register, and as she stared at the parchment, they seemed to become more and more absurd.

_We're friends, at the most. Surely he has other friends?_

Hermione paused. She _had_ kissed him twice; once in front of his _mother _and once in the middle of the Ministry's Atrium, and only once had that been because they needed to appear as if they were a couple. And they did share a bed every night – albeit they did nothing more than sleep, but there was still the fact that they slept in the same bed.

_What does that mean, though?_ was all Hermione found herself thinking.

Shaking her head as she reread the letter, Hermione was struck with a series of sudden thoughts and memories.

_Keep safe._

_Please keep yourself safe._

_Don't go anywhere alone, alright?_

_He will do all he can to protect you, so long as you do the same._

_Don't go anywhere alone. There are people out there that not even Draco can protect you from._

_Keep yourself safe, alright?_

And then it hit her.

Everyone was trying to protect her from something – or someone.

The thought made anger rise inside her, so much so that she barely felt the pulses of magic passing through her, and she stormed to the library - causing a few portraits to glare at her - and began reading to try and help calm herself down. She kicked off her shoes, pushed her seat back so she was able to rest her feet on the desk, and read for an hour and a half before Draco entered the library and closed the door quietly before leaning against it and watching her.

Still angry, despite all the reading she had done – five and a half books – Hermione slammed the book shut, thumped it onto the desk, crossed her arms and glared at him across the room, all the while lowering her feet to the ground.

"When were you planning on telling me?" she asked after a moment, just loud enough for him to hear.

_Shit_, was Draco's first thought. He'd have to convince her she was wrong then, before he took her out to Blaise. Actually, scratch that – he couldn't take her now.

Draco quirked an eyebrow, but didn't move. "Telling you what?"

"That someone or something is out to get me."

Pasting a blank expression on his face, Draco pushed himself off the door and slowly made his way over to her, speaking as he went.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Hermione picked up the book closest to her - a small novel – and hurled it across the room at him, narrowing her eyes when he caught it with his _stupid seeker reflexes_.

"What was that for?" Draco asked calmly, walking forward to place the book back on the desk before sitting in a seat across from her.

"Don't play dumb with me, _Malfoy_," Hermione very near snarled. "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about."

"And if I don't?" he asked, pretending to be very interested in the seam on the pocket of his jeans.

Hermione got to her feet suddenly, placed both hands on the desk in front of her and leaned across it, glaring at him while speaking with a venomous tone.

"Then you had better bloody tell me anyway."

Sighing, Draco met her gaze. "I can't tell you if there's nothing _to_ tell, Granger."

"I know you know, Draco," she said. "Everyone's been warning me not to go anywhere alone and to keep safe, and they keep saying that _you_ will protect me."

"Have they now?" he asked. He began picking invisible lint off his jeans, avoiding her stare.

"_Yes_," she spat. "And no one would trust _you_ to protect me if they didn't know you know I needed protection."

"All you're doing is confusing me, Granger. I don't know what you're talking about."

Using his distraction to her advantage, Hermione hurled another book at him, catching him on the shoulder.

"What the fuck did you do _that_ for?" Draco burst, holding his shoulder and staring at her wide-eyed.

"Stop lying to me, you prick!"

"I'm not!" he lied.

"Fuck off you're not! I know you know!"

Suddenly, something clicked within her mind.

"That's what Blaise and you were doing when he asked me about _via lucis_! You wanted to know how Ron got past your bloody wards!"

"Honestly, Granger, that's absurd."

Hermione glared at him, if possible, harder. "Tell me what you know."

"I don't know anything."

The memory of magic pulsing through her came to the forefront of her mind, and she suddenly just _knew _that he was lying – even if she'd already known that before. If she hadn't, she definitely would have after she remembered one important detail.

"What the _fuck_ do you know, Malfoy? What's so bad about the person after me that you need to cast the Fidelius charm to keep them out?"

_Fuck_, Draco thought. _She felt it. We weren't good enough at the undetectable charm._

He sighed. "It's an extra precaution, alright? Just leave it at that. We don't want another Weasley situation, do we?"

Hermione continued to glare across the desk at him, but after a moment she stood up straight and pulled the hem of her shirt down over her jeans.

"I don't understand," she admitted, rounding the desk to stand in front of it.

"I can't help you there," Draco replied, and he got to his feet. He checked his watch, ran a hand through his hair, making it spike up in every direction, and met her gaze, before giving her a once over.

"How long until you're ready?"

"Ready? For what?"

Draco smirked. "Dinner, of course. Didn't I say we were going out?"

"Yes, but I thought-"

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Draco began walking to the door. "Never mind, Granger. I'll meet you in the entrance hall in half an hour."

He stopped when he reached the door and, pulling it open while he stared at her, he was suddenly hit with an idea.

"Have a shower," he told her. "And wear something nice."

And with those words, he was gone.

* * *

><p>Huffing, Hermione made her way upstairs and had a shower. She wrapped a towel around herself before making her way out to her bedroom, where she promptly stopped in her tracks, clutching the towel – and her wand - tightly against her chest.<p>

There was an elegant gown hanging in the middle of her room – obviously charmed to float there – and it was the most beautiful dress Hermione had seen in her life.

It was a pale green, not strapless, but with straps that would round her shoulders instead of going over the top of them, with a frilly kind of lace hanging off them. It had simple, filigree layers that fell from where her hips would be, and it looked as if it would just reach the floor. It reminded Hermione of the dress she'd worn to the Yule ball in her fourth year, although it was green instead of blue. On the floor beneath the floating dress was a pair of green, strap-on heels, probably about two inches height, and Hermione stared at the ensemble before her in shock.

"I can't wear that…" she whispered to herself, and she turned away from the gown and shoes to walk into the wardrobe, where she pulled on a matching set of black underwear and a bra and began looking through the dresses she had hanging up, the towel laying forgotten in the middle of the floor, her wand on a shelf nearby.

"Surely you're not thinking of wearing something else," a voice said.

Hermione let out a squeal as she jumped, and she pulled the closest thing to her – a red, knee length dress – off the hanger to cover her very exposed body.

"What are you doing?" she screamed at the man by her door.

"Funny," he mused aloud, ignoring the question. "I never picked you for a lacy kind of girl, Granger."

Hermione looked down at herself, wondering how he could see her underwear, and he chuckled.

"You know there's a mirror behind you, don't you?"

Hermione glared at him.

"I'm not wearing that dress, Malfoy."

"And why not?"

"Look at it!" she yelled, using one hand to gesture out the door behind him where she knew the dress was still floating in mid-air. "It's way too… too…"

"Too _what_?" Draco asked curiously.

"It's way too extravagant! I can't wear something like that!"

"And why not?" he repeated.

Hermione huffed. "I don't suit the dress."

"Ah, but the dress suits _you_," he said.

"How do you know that?"

Draco shrugged. "No idea. It just struck me as a… Hermione style dress."

Trying not to think about how he'd used her first name, Hermione shook her head. "I'm not wearing it."

Figuring there was only one way to get her to change her mind, Draco sighed. "Will you at least try it on?"

"Will you let me wear something else?"

"Yes," he said. "But only if you can tell me honestly that the dress does not suit you _at all_."

Glaring, Hermione walked a few steps to pick up the towel and wrapped it around herself, much to Draco's amusement, and returned the red dress to its hanger. She passed by Draco and grabbed the dress from mid-air, and it fell gently into her hands – it was made of the softest material Hermione had ever felt. She stalked past Draco again, into the wardrobe, and, with a slight shove to get Draco out of the way, she shut and locked the door.

Five minutes later, she stood in front of the floor-length mirror at the end of the wardrobe, admiring her reflection, the dress hanging open at her back where the zip was.

"I _definitely_ can't wear this…" she whispered to no one.

There were three light knocks on the door and a voice called out to Hermione from the other side.

"Granger, are you decent?"

"Would it matter?" she called back, not removing her eyes from the beautiful gown in the mirror.

There was a chuckle from the other side of the door and a quiet whisper before the lock clicked open and Draco walked in, holding his wand in one hand and her shoes in the other, before everything clattered to the floor, the shoes falling noisily and his wand hitting his shoe and rolling under a low shelf as he stared at Hermione in the mirror.

"Wow…" he breathed.

Hermione blushed and pulled her bottom lip back between her teeth at his reaction and stared at the gown she was wearing.

"It's too extravagant," she whispered, though Draco seemed to hear her.

"Are you kidding me, Granger? That dress is _perfect_." He wasn't joking.

She chuckled silently, nervously, and smiled to herself, still looking down as the blush on her cheeks became brighter. Breathing in deeply, Hermione came to a decision.

"It's not perfect," she said.

"Wh-?"

"It's not zipped up," she interrupted, cutting him off as she reached up to pull her hair to one side of her neck. "Care to do the honours?"

Closing his mouth from where it was gaping at her, he nodded, picked up the shoes he had dropped, and walked four steps forward, closing the distance between them, and dropping the shoes again by her side.

He placed his hand gently on her hip, pushing his thumb into the small of her back to hold the bottom of the zip down, and used his other hand to pull the zipper up.

Leaving one hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip, Draco looked at her reflection in the mirror and Hermione followed his gaze, meeting his eyes in the reflection. She noticed, finally, that he was already dressed for the evening, wearing a sharp black suit and a white dress shirt with a black tie. His hair appeared to be stylishly messy, still slightly damp from the shower he must have had, and he had on black dragon-hide shoes, which, Hermione thought, must have cost a fortune.

Hermione stared at her own clothes and realised how much better the dress looked now that it was on properly.

With the dress zipped up, it accentuated her breasts and hips, the built-in mini-corset making her appear slightly thinner around the waist.

She studied both of their reflections then and saw that, while she reached just above his shoulder without shoes on, she liked what she saw.

Draco seemed to, as well, she thought, because he was staring at the mirror with a sort of longing in his eyes, much like she was.

Shaking her head when she realised it was probably just her imagination, and that it would never happen, Hermione looked down again before turning to walk back to the shelf were she left her wand. Draco let her go, continuing to stare after her in the mirror.

She returned with her wand to the mirror and charmed her bra straps clear and magically charmed her hair up into a high bun, leaving a few curls out to frame her face.

"Does this mean you'll wear the dress?" Draco asked, watching her reflection as she smiled.

"Yes," she replied, reaching down to slip her feet into the heels.

With them on and her hair done up, she was just over half a head shorter than him, and the reflection looked like something she might see in a portrait on the walls of the manor.

Staring at the reflection, Draco suddenly remembered something. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pendant and earrings and handed them to her.

"Here," he said.

Hermione stared at the jewellery, shocked, but smiled slowly. She handed him everything back and, at his shocked expression, chuckled.

"Just wait," she said, and reached up to take out the gold sleepers that were already in her ears, before taking one earring, then the other, from Draco's palm and putting them in.

They were simple dangling earrings - each had a single emerald embedded in gold and surrounded by diamonds - and with the dress, they looked wonderful.

She was just lifting her hand to take the necklace when Draco unclasped it himself and stepped behind her, reaching around her shoulders so he could let it dangle across her chest as he did it up.

The necklace – a gold chain with an emerald pendant encircled by more gold and diamonds – sat just above the edge of the dress, a little way below her collarbone.

It, too, looked wonderful with the dress, and Hermione found herself admiring herself in the mirror again.

She used her wand to cast a glamour charm on her face, coating her lips in a pale pink gloss and adding a blush and eye shadow to her cheeks and eyes, before slipping it into a secret pocket just below her hip.

She looked even better with the jewellery, makeup and her hair done up than she did without.

"I told you it suited you," Draco said smugly from behind her.

Hermione elbowed him threateningly, but smiled anyway. He had been right, after all.

"I never thought green was my colour," she admitted. During her life, she'd avoided green almost obsessively after she'd tried on a dark green swimsuit in her teen years and found it did nothing for her figure, or overall appearance.

"Obviously you picked the wrong green."

"And you picked the right one, apparently."

"I'm almost never wrong," he said, and was elbowed again as she walked past him.

"Where are we going for dinner, anyway?" Hermione asked, searching through a jewellery box on a shelf to find a simple gold band to wear. Slipping it on, she turned to find him watching her silently.

"Malfoy?" she asked. He continued to watch her in silence. She took a few small steps towards him and noticed he wasn't staring at her, but just staring blankly in her direction. "Draco?" she tried again, waving her hand in front of his face.

Before Hermione could even blink, he smirked, caught her wrist and spun her around, catching her by the waist and throwing her into a smooth dip as he leaned over her. Hermione let out a squeal and stared up at him in shock, breathing heavily as she tried to expel the adrenaline that had coursed through her randomly at his touch. Her arms hung limply by her side and she couldn't seem to find the energy to move them, even with the adrenaline rushing through her.

"That was fun," he breathed, still smirking.

Hermione swallowed noticeably and continued to stare at him, her eyes wide.

"I could drop you right now," he said. "And you would probably still stare at me like I'd just started dancing naked in front of you."

Shaking the mental image of Draco dancing in the nude from her head, Hermione swallowed again and glared at him.

"You wouldn't dare," she replied.

He quirked an eyebrow above her and smirked again. "Wouldn't I?"

And, again, before she could blink, his arm around her waist loosened and Hermione felt herself begin to fall. She squealed again and reached up to grab the lapels of his jacket, holding on for dear life, even if it was unnecessary, because before she'd fallen more than an inch, he'd tightened his grip again and started laughing; a nice, rich laugh, that had Hermione's heart fluttering, if possible, faster behind her ribs.

"Quite the squealer, aren't you, Granger?"

Staying quiet for a minute as she struggled to regain her control, Hermione glared up at him.

"Let me go, Malfoy," she ordered.

Draco shrugged. "Okay," he said, and did so, but only for a second.

"_Draco!_" Hermione screamed, deafeningly loud.

Before Draco could even smile, there was a sudden pop and Narcissa appeared in the door of the wardrobe.

"Hermione?" she asked, her tone laced with concern. She looked at Draco and Hermione's position for a moment before a smile broke out on her face and she let out a very unladylike snort.

"I'm alright, Narcissa," Hermione said breathlessly, glaring at Draco once more.

"I think you should let Hermione stand up, now, Draco," Narcissa said.

Reluctantly, Draco did so, holding Hermione around the waist until she was able to stand on her own and letting her go as she turned to face his mother.

Narcissa finally caught sight of what Hermione was wearing and she broke out into a huge grin, stepping forward to get a closer look.

"Oh, Hermione, you look _beautiful!_" she exclaimed.

Hermione blushed at the compliment and caught Draco giving her a smug look out of the corner of her eye. Resisting the urge to tell him to shut up, she smiled at Narcissa and turned to Draco.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going for dinner now?"

"I already told you," he replied, smirking.

"What, when?"

"At the Ministry."

"All you said was that it's a-" Hermione paused. "Oh, I hate you."

Smirking again, Draco grabbed hold of her elbow and turned to his mother.

"If you'll excuse us, Mother," he said. "But we've got a dinner to attend."

Narcissa nodded and sent Hermione a sympathetic smile as she passed, glad that her son had taken her advice. She only hoped Hermione liked the place that Draco was taking her.

* * *

><p>"Tell me where we're going!" Hermione demanded as Draco continued to lead her silently to the entrance hall of the manor, her arm now linked with his. When they reached it, he kept walking in silence, opening the door for her and closing it behind them.<p>

They walked down the long path out the front of the manor, passing by the thornless rose bushes, and Hermione recalled the rose that Draco had given her countless weeks before.

She remembered the words she'd said to him, and became confused when she thought over them.

_Not all roses have thorns, Draco, but each one has its own dangerous defences._

What the hell had she been talking about? Herself or the rose?

Shaking her head, she realised that they had passed through the gates of the manor and were now standing a little way down the path. Draco was watching her curiously.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" he asked, his head angled slightly to the side and a single blonde eyebrow quirked. Hermione thought briefly that he looked kind of cute doing that.

"Not until you tell me where we're going." she told him.

Chuckling, Draco pulled a rolled up handkerchief from his jacket pocket, not releasing Hermione's arm, and held it in his fist at his side.

"You're so predictable, sometimes, you know," he said. "I probably knew you were going to say that before you even knew yourself."

"Then why bother asking?"

"To see if I was wrong."

They were silent for a moment and Draco released Hermione's arm, finally, to unfold the kerchief, revealing a broken monocle.

For a moment, Hermione was confused, before she recalled her fourth year again. "Portkey?" she asked.

"Indeed," was all the response she got before Draco grabbed her hand, placed it on the monocle and placed his own finger on it, dropping the handkerchief, and they both hooked their fingers around the broken frame as they felt the familiar pull behind their navels.

The first thing Hermione saw when her vision cleared and her head stopped spinning was a brilliantly lit river, reflecting the lights of the bridge across it and the numerous buildings at its edge. There was a ferry floating past, filled with people, and she heard, faintly, an orchestra playing an unfamiliar song.

"Wow…" she breathed, her mouth falling into a small 'o' shape as she took in the beautiful scenery. She looked to her left and right and found that Draco and herself were standing on a low walkway, right by the water's edge. Just up the river to her right, she saw an old castle-like building, right on the shore, lit up and beautiful in the darkened sky.

"Welcome to Paris, Hermione," Draco said, smiling at her in a way that made her heart flutter again.

"You brought me to _Paris _for _dinner_?" she breathed, staring up at him in disbelief.

"Yes," he replied, suddenly appearing nervous. "Is there a problem?"

Hermione's eyes grew slightly wider at the question. "Problem? No, it's wonderful!" she beamed.

Draco smiled softly in return and held up his arm for her, which she promptly linked hers with.

They walked for a few minutes along the path by the water, Hermione and Draco both silently admiring the beautiful view, before they reached a set of stairs that split in two ways at the top.

"Pick one," Draco said.

Hermione looked up at him in confusion before returning her gaze to the stairs.

"Right?" she suggested.

"Right it is," he replied, and they walked up the stairs and took the right path, ending up in a circular courtyard fenced by a small hedge and brilliantly shining fairy lights, hung between numerous street lamps.

In the centre of the courtyard, a few metres from Hermione and Draco, there was a small table draped with a red cloth, two candles and a vase containing a single rose sitting making up the centrepiece.

"Oh my god," Hermione breathed, taking it all in.

Draco chuckled, watching her, and when she met his eyes, he smiled.

"You're kidding me," she let out after a gasp. "This isn't – I – you brought me to Paris for dinner."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Do you like it?"

"There is no way you're behind this," she said, looking back at the table and nearly screaming as she noticed a tall man in a suit standing beside one of the chairs.

She took a deep calming breath and looked up at Draco.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing at the table with his free hand.

Hermione nodded and, as they reached the table, Draco pulled a chair out for her and waited until she was seated to push it back in and take his own seat across from her. The man nearby looked at Draco, who nodded, and disappeared through a gap in the hedges that Hermione hadn't noticed before and returned a moment later with a large silver platter in his hand.

He removed the lid, placed it on the table, and showed Hermione and Draco two identical plates of vegetables and beef.

"_Pot au feu_," Draco told her, in a perfect French accent, as the waiter placed each plate before them. "Beef stew and vegetables."

Hermione smiled. "Simple," she said. "I like it."

Draco raised an eyebrow and his eyes widened slightly. "Really?" he asked, genuinely surprised, nodding at the waiter, who held out a bottle of sparkling white wine. He filled two glasses with it and walked away before Hermione answered.

"Yes," she said, smiling at him around the rose. "I really do."

They ate two courses over the next hour, discussing anything and everything they could think of but somehow managing to avoid topics that either of the pair didn't like – such as certain parts of their schooling years or the trials. Hermione told Draco all about how she'd been to Paris before, with her parents and alone, and Draco told her about how he used to spend his summers as a young boy, visiting his relatives and, after a dessert of a simple lemon cheesecake and ice-cream, Draco stood up and helped Hermione to her feet. He plucked the rose from the vase in the centre of the table and broke a large portion of the stem off before reaching up to silently place it in her hair, just above her ear, using one of the bobby pins there to hold it in place.

All of a sudden, the music Hermione had heard on the ferry was playing and she was caught up in Draco's arms, spinning around the courtyard as he led her in a simple, yet elegant, dance. They moved at a medium pace around the brightly lit area, neither of them noticing the flashes of lights as cameras went off behind the bushes, as they laughed and joked around.

As the song ended and a slower one began, Hermione leaned forward to rest her head against Draco's chest, laughing quietly as they continued to move in slow circles around the courtyard.

It was around three songs later, Hermione's head still resting on Draco's chest, that they stopped moving all together and simply stood in the courtyard, enjoying each other's embrace, neither wanting the night to end. That was when Hermione felt the first raindrop on her cheek.

She lifted her head, staring past Draco into the sky, which she noticed had grown cloudy since they'd arrived. She met his eyes silently, and he nodded, taking her hand in his, before leading her back to the staircase. They barely reached it before it began to rain harder.

Hermione looked to her right – at the path she hadn't taken – and was struck with a sudden inspiration as she noticed a familiar park just down the river.

She grasped his hand tighter, stopping him from heading down the stairs, and nodded in the opposite direction.

"Come with me," she said, just loud enough for him to be heard over the sound of the rain hitting the cement.

Raising an eyebrow, Draco nodded, and Hermione pulled him down the opposite path slowly, not caring that she was slowly getting soaked.

When it began bucketing, however, Hermione reached down to undo each strap on her heels and slid them off her feet, holding them in one hand while she grabbed Draco's tightly with the other, and pulled him at a run towards the lights of what she knew was a quaint little late-night coffee shop she'd visited with her parents.

They began laughing at some point as they ran, and Hermione's hair, apart from the place the rose was pinned to, fell down to plaster itself to her neck and shoulders, causing her dress to soak even faster than before.

As they reached the door of the coffee-shop and pushed inside, still laughing and puffing as the bell tinkled above them, they were hit with the strong, delicious aroma of coffee and hot chocolate, and Hermione lead them to a couch by a window that allowed them to look out over the river. They appeared to be the only two people in the place and they remained seated close to each other, still holding hands.

"Bonsoir, Madame, Monsieur," a voice said from beside them. They both turned to see an old woman smiling at them, a pen poised over a small pad in her hands, which she had most likely pulled from the pocket of the white half-apron she was wearing. "May I get you something to drink?" she asked, in a heavily accented voice.

"Two hot chocolates, please," Hermione said, smiling up at her.

"Coming right up," the woman replied, writing their order down quickly and walking away to disappear behind a door near the back of the building.

"How'd you know this place was here?" Draco asked, watching her as she stared at the boats passing by on the river.

"I recognised the park we ran past. I knew this place wasn't far."

"And here I was thinking I'd brought you some place new," he chuckled.

Hermione turned to him, smiling, and met his eyes happily. "Thank you," she said. "For tonight. It's been wonderful."

Draco checked his watch briefly and smirked. "It's not over yet, Granger," he admitted, and gestured out the window with a nod. "Look."

Hermione turned, just in time, to see a row of about twenty lights light up along the bridge she'd seen early that night before fireworks erupted from each light, casting a brilliant array of colours to light up the rain and the river, along with the nearby buildings of the city.

"Oh my God…" she breathed again, turning to face Draco, who was smiling at her again. "You _didn't_," she asked, eyes wide as she took in his smug expression.

"Only for you, Granger," he replied, and then he kissed her, lifting his free hand to reach up and bury it in her soaking wet hair, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.

Hermione kissed him back, reaching up to touch his face, both of them ignoring the shocked gasp of the old lady as she set down their hot chocolates and neither of them noticing the flashes of the cameras outside the window.

* * *

><p><strong>An: OH. MAH. GAWSH. THEY'S MAKIN' OUT ER SUMTHUN. I'dn't that KEWWWWT?**

**Seriously though, did anyone get my clue from the last chapter? No? None of you commented on it, so.. yeah. Maybe I'm just too cryptic.**

**CLUE REMAINS THE SAME FOR THIS CHAPTER. BUT IT MEANS SOMETHING DIFFERENT. PERHAPS. MAYBE. ZOMG.**

**Also, I want to say YEAH, the relationship seems to be moving a bit fast but it's aaaalllll part of the plaaan, maaaan. :P**

**What'd you guys think?**

**OH, AND WELCOME BACK NATIVE-KITTEN. MISSED YAH. HELLOO. :D *glomps***

**R&R&L mah dears. I love it when you do :)**

**~Originalitys**

**P.s. This chapter was long because I love you. ONLY IF YOU REVIEWED THOUGH. XD They might be longer from now on, cause we're GETTIN TAH THAH GEWD BIYAT.**


	24. Investigations and Tales

They returned home from their dinner late that night – or very early, depending on how you looked at it – via a Portkey that landed them right outside the manor's gates. Hermione was shocked to find, however, that she couldn't see the manor at all.

"Draco," she said, wondering briefly if she was drunk. "I can't see it."

"Wha- oh," Draco chuckled, then pulled a somehow-still-dry piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to her.

Written on it in unfamiliar writing were two words: Black Manor.

"Say them out loud," Draco told her, so she did, and within seconds, Malfoy Manor had reappeared.

* * *

><p>As they began the walk back up to the front door to the manor, Draco cast a drying charm on their clothes, and Hermione was struck suddenly with what day it was.<p>

"Lissy comes back today," she said quietly.

Draco smiled sadly and nodded, squeezing the hand he held gently. "Perhaps you should take the week off," he suggested.

Hermione began shaking her head before he even finished his sentence. "I've only been there a week; I don't want to lose my job. Besides, my month is up, and I haven't even used your baby-sitting services yet."

"I think it's safe to say, Granger," Draco began. "That you'll be staying here until you want to leave."

As a thought came to the forefront of her mind, Hermione gazed at him curiously. "And if I don't want to?"

"Then you're sticking around until I get sick of you. My mother really doesn't mind and I have no objections as of late, so… you're staying. Unless you want to leave, that is." Draco found himself hoping, quite blatantly, that she _did_ want to stay… and he knew it was for reasons other than ensuring her safety.

Hermione smiled softly. "No," she said. "I don't think I do."

Slightly awkwardly, despite – and due to – the alcohol in their systems, the pair made their way into the manor, up to the hallway their rooms were connected to. They stood in the centre of it quietly, still holding hands, and Hermione glanced from her door to Draco's apprehensively.

"Well…" she said after a minute. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

Draco smirked, slowly allowing their hands to fall back to their respective persons. "Goodnight, Granger."

Nodding awkwardly, Hermione threw one last look at her door before pushing forward on one foot to kiss him on the cheek.

"I had fun tonight," she whispered, staring at her feet as she backed towards her door.

Acting on a whim, Draco followed her and caught her around the waist with one arm while using the other the grab her chin with his thumb and index finger and pull her face up to meet her eyes.

"I did too," he replied quietly, before planting a kiss on her lips.

The kiss was different to the three they'd shared previously – it wasn't excited or rushed, it wasn't faked for the sake of appearance, and it wasn't a random burst of – dare he think it – passion – it was a tender kiss, filled with the emotions that neither of them wanted to admit, that left them both breathless when he finally pulled away.

"See you in a little while, Hermione," he told her, and disappeared into his own room, leaving Hermione to her thoughts before she too disappeared into her room.

Keeping his word, Draco crept into her room half an hour later – after both of them had showered and changed – and climbed into bed behind her, smiling to himself as she instantly pushed her back against his chest and snuggled closer to her pillow.

* * *

><p>They woke at the same time at around ten that morning, simultaneously groaning as they realised that the sunlight that had blinded them was due to Narcissa pulling open the curtains of the window directly across from the bed.<p>

Draco mumbled something his mother would have scolded him for – had she heard it – and buried his face in Hermione's hair as he lay behind her, one arm thrown across her waist, with her back flush against his chest.

"Come on you too, up," Narcissa ordered, internally ecstatic at the sight of them sharing a bed.

Hermione, despite knowing how rude it was, groaned again and used a nearby pillow to cover her face, while Draco whispered obscenities into her hair.

"Oh, honestly," Narcissa huffed, approaching the bed. "It's like dealing with a pair of three year olds."

The pair, had they not already been awake due to Narcissa pulling the covers off them – resulting in them curling closer to each other as the cold air assaulted them – were awake when she made this statement.

_Lissy comes back today._

Draco sighed as Hermione whimpered at the thought and he silently cursed his mother as he rolled her over and held her while she cried into his chest.

"Shh," he whispered. "It's okay."

"I'm not sad," she replied eventually, reaching between them to wipe her eyes. "I'm… I don't know. I don't know how to feel."

Narcissa smiled as she watched them whisper to each other, but was promptly reminded of what was waiting downstairs.

"Come on you two, up!" she repeated, louder this time. "There's a woman downstairs waiting for you!"

Draco wondered briefly how she'd gotten past the Fidelius Charm, but then he realised that since their house was now registered in the Ministry somewhere – somewhere incredibly safe – they would have contacted Blaise to tell her.

Hermione sighed and sat up, brushing her arm against Draco's chest as she did.

Draco followed suit, pushing himself back against the headboard, and watched as Hermione climbed over his legs and made her way to the adjacent bathroom.

"I see you two have become close," Narcissa observed once she heard the door lock click.

"I see you've become nosier," he replied.

"Draco…" his mother warned.

"What, Mother?" he questioned, his anger at being woken up so early seeping into his voice. He never took his eyes of the bathroom door, but addressed his mother sharply. "I know you've known since it first happened, and I know you've been informed of it every time since. I know you know what happened last night. What difference does it make?"

"What will this do to you both?"

"Make things awkward," he admitted. "But it would be considerably worse if we didn't do this."

"What happens when you realise how you feel about each other?"

Groaning, Draco turned his gaze to his mother, who was watching him with masked concern. "We _won't_," he said. "Because we don't feel anything more than friendship, at the most, and nothing will change that. Leave it," he cut her off as she opened her mouth and climbed off the bed. "Leave it all alone." And with those parting words, he went to his own room to shower.

* * *

><p>They both threw out <em>The Daily Prophet <em>and Narcissa's copy of _Witch Weekly _quite angrily when they realised that their date had been posted on the cover and front page of every issue, though both were silently pleased – now their relationship was out in the open. Although, the _Prophet _had had the nerve to say that Draco had _proposed _at the coffee shop, and that's why they had pictures of Hermione staring at him in shock. They'd apparently missed the fireworks.

* * *

><p>The next week was a good one for the pair, with only a few hiccups.<p>

On day one, Hermione was so overcome with joy at seeing Lissy again that she ignored the investigator – a blonde woman named Alexis White – for a full twenty minutes as she kissed and hugged and smiled at her daughter, and Draco was not much better as he watched them.

"_Miss Granger, I was wondering if you could tell me what happened once your daughter was born; where did you go, who did you see?" Alexis asked, staring at the woman in question quizzically. It had been clear since she'd first seen Hermione that she didn't like her, and Hermione realised, about ten minutes into their meeting, that the feeling was mutual._

_Hermione ignored her completely and beamed at her daughter for the hundredth time. "Oh, I love you, Lissy."_

_Alexis paused, and turned to Draco. "Mister Malfoy, could you tell me what happened?"_

_Draco ignored her too, and continued to stare at Hermione and Felicity, the ghost of a smile on his face._

_Alexis sighed and wrote a few words on her parchment._

* * *

><p>On day two, after Hermione had left Lissy in the care of Narcissa for the day, Draco and Hermione went out on another date after work – to a nice restaurant in muggle London this time – and returned home late to find Alexis waiting there.<p>

_Oblivious to the woman on the parlour's sofa, Hermione reached up and kissed Draco's cheek. "Thank you again," she said, smiling._

_Smirking, Draco was just leaning down to kiss her when someone cleared their throat, and he jolted in shock before turning to face the blonde-haired witch with a slight frown on her face._

_With a quick mental calculation, he realised it was well past eleven o'clock at night, and he wondered how long she had been waiting for them._

"_May we help you?" he asked politely, releasing his arm from Hermione's waist and moving a sensible 'boyfriend in public' distance away - much to her disappointment._

"_I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions," the woman replied from the sofa, and scratched something on her parchment again._

_Both of them sighed, nodded, and sat down – where they spent the next two hours answering questions about family members and relationships._

* * *

><p>On the third day, Hermione faced trouble at work and came home in what Narcissa called an 'unstoppable rage', and, when Draco entered her room to check on her after she'd locked herself and her daughter away for two hours, he was promptly hit in the face with one of Lissy's toys.<p>

"_Granger!" he yelled as she screamed and paced around the room. "What the hell is wrong with you?"_

_He thought briefly to the woman who was in the parlour, again, and sighed, running a hand down his face as Hermione ranted at him about some person who made a mistake on an account of an argument from a year ago; one that, going by what she was saying, wasn't even important – to her or her job._

_Hermione had ranted and paced for twenty minutes before he stopped her in her tracks by grabbing her face in his hands and kissing her. She'd sighed in defeat and moulded herself to him for a full minute before he pulled away again._

"_Calm the fuck down, Granger," was all he'd been able to whisper before a familiar clearing of the throat came from the direction of the door. They both wondered briefly whether she was a distant relative of Dolores Umbridge._

* * *

><p>The fourth and fifth days were, undoubtedly, the worst of the week.<p>

On the fourth day, Draco was uncharacteristically missing from the Manor; no matter where Hermione looked – she spent the whole day searching, because she didn't have work that day – there was no trace of him, apart from the faint smell of him in her sheets and the steam on the mirror of his bathroom – she'd made an elf check instead of going in there herself. She'd never been in Draco's room before, and she wasn't about to go in there searching for… whatever she was searching for. A sign of him having been there.

_Hermione searched through the library, his study, and she followed a house elf around to search the places he frequented while other house elves searched the rest of the manor._

_Draco, on the other hand, was storming around his apartment, freaking out like it was no one's business. After having woken up way earlier than Hermione that morning, he heard something tapping on the window, so he gently pulled himself out from under her and went to investigate._

_A familiar black owl was perched on the sill of the window outside, and he pulled it open to let it in._

_Two pieces of parchment were attached to the owl's leg; one with writing on the outside, the other a letter that's seal had already been broken. After he removed them and fed the owl a treat, it flew off again without a sound._

_Draco picked up the smaller letter and recognised Blaise's handwriting immediately as he read the words. His face fell as he read_

This just came for Hermione. They couldn't find you, so it was sent to me. Unfamiliar owl, charmed letters, untraceable.

_Curious, Draco picked up the open envelope and pulled out the letter – and he became increasingly madder as he read._

Hermione,

Oh, Hermione, how I pity you. Trusting _Slytherins_? You're dumber than I thought.

While I understand you and your 'friends' have taken extensive measures to protect you – and I admire their efforts, of course – they cannot protect you forever.

You _will_ pay for what you have done.

I will find you, and you will not be able to trust your Slytherin cronies for long.

Of course, I must say, should I find out that you have shown _anyone_ this letter, there will be consequences – do not doubt that.

_Keep smart, Hermione._

_Draco growled and ran a hand down his face, crumpling the two letters within his fist before – after checking she was still asleep – leaving Hermione's room to go to his own, having a shower and apparating to his flat, where he promptly Floo-called Blaise and demanded he come over._

_Blaise spent the day pouring and re-pouring glasses of Firewhiskey he summoned from his own manor's wine cellar, and Draco spent the day ruining the carpet in the middle of his sitting room with his constant pacing._

"_Who the _fuck _could it be? How did they know we'd started doing extra work to protect her_? How do they fucking know_?" were some of the questions Draco asked – or, more appropriately, _shouted_ – as he paced back and forth over his rug._

_Blaise simply shrugged from his place on the couch and levitated another glass towards him, which he took and downed in one gulp._

"Fuck_!" Draco growled, rubbing his throat absentmindedly while he continued to pace._

"_Calm down, mate," Blaise said after three more hours of the same thing._

_Growl, shrug, pour, levitate, shout, drink and repeat._

"_I'm not going to fucking _calm down_! Someone's out to get her and I don't have a fucking clue who it is! They were smart enough not to sign the damn note, and they charmed the fucking words! And I can't fucking un-charm them, because they'll disappear completely!"_

_Blaise sighed and continued the cycle in silence until Draco passed out – from exhaustion and drunkenness – on the couch, four hours later._

_Hermione sat in the parlour for two hours of this time with Felicity playing with her toy from Draco on the floor in front of her and Alexis watching her carefully. She couldn't help but notice how disappointed the woman sounded when she told her Draco probably wouldn't be joining them that day._

_Since he wasn't there, Alexis asked her all about her time in Australia and her time when she'd arrived back in London – she asked her about pretty much everything before she'd moved to the manor, including her relationship with Draco before the war._

_Hermione answered the questions as best she could, though she was distracted, and she kept glancing towards the fireplace, hoping that Draco would step through._

_As it happened, just after Alexis asked her about the day of Felicity's conception, - a question she wasn't comfortable answering to a stranger – the fireplace flashed green, and Hermione was on her feet as soon as she realised who it was._

"_Where is he? Is he okay?" she asked Blaise, looking into his eyes almost frantically._

"_He's… he's at his apartment," Blaise answered, deciding at the last minute to tell the truth. Kind of. "Something came up at work and he's spending the day there to keep away from distractions. He told me to tell you he's alright, and he'll see you later if he can."_

_Sighing in relief, Hermione nodded, and released Blaise from the hold she had on the lapels of his jacket before she rested her forehead against his chest. She had no idea why she'd been so worried, but when she'd woken up at what she considered to be early – just after five am – to find Draco gone, she'd panicked._

_Blaise chuckled above her and patted her back gently. "He's alright," he promised._

_Hermione just nodded, and Blaise continued to hold her… until Alexis cleared her throat._

* * *

><p>On the night of the fourth, at around ten, Draco jolted awake to find himself on his couch. Rubbing his face harshly to rid himself of memories of his nightmare – one in which Hermione was murdered by a masked figure as he watched, helpless, from behind some kind of forcefield – he picked up the letter he'd knocked to the floor, stumbled his way to the fireplace and Flooed straight to Hermione's room, stripped down to his boxers, and climbed into bed with her.<p>

_When Hermione awoke the next morning to find someone spooning with her, she gave a panicked jolt and a small squeal, but calmed quickly when Draco told her to 'shut up and stop squirming, Granger; I'm trying to sleep,', before burying his face in her hair – a habit he'd picked up sometime during his constant stays in her room._

_Hermione smiled to herself before pulling his arm off her and rolling over to face him. She laid her head on the pillow they shared, facing him, and reached up despite herself to brush a piece of hair from where it had fallen into his eyes._

"_You need a haircut," she whispered._

"_You need to go back to sleep," he replied, not opening his eyes._

_Hermione chuckled and pulled her hand away from his face, resting it awkwardly on the mattress between them._

_Sighing, Draco opened his eyes, smiled, and reached forward to plant a small kiss on her lips._

"_Where were you yesterday?" Hermione asked after a minute, still speaking quietly._

_Draco recalled the letter he'd read the night before – it was from Blaise, informing him of the story he'd told Hermione about where he was – and he responded accordingly, shifting his head slightly. "Something came up at work – apparently someone was trading illegal goods, but they couldn't find out where he was – and they asked me to deal with it. I figured it'd be better to stay at my apartment than here, what with Lissy and Alexis being around."_

_Hermione nodded, but still found that something bothered her. "Why didn't you send me a letter or something to let me know?"_

"_It must have slipped my mind," he said. Then added as an afterthought, "Sorry."_

"_Forgiven," she replied, smiling as she brushed the same piece of hair from his eyes again before she rolled over and they both went back to sleep._

_They slept for half an hour before Narcissa woke them up again, complaining as she pulled open the curtains that 'that woman has the _worst_ timing I've ever seen in my life. I had guests!' It became increasingly obvious that no one really liked Alexis White._

Later that day, it became apparent that Alexis was an avid reader of both the _Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_

"_So, have you two been going on dates a lot, lately?" she asked, watching curiously as Draco slouched against the couch's arm and Hermione sat close to him, out of nervousness and – though she'd never admit it aloud – jealousy towards the woman across from her._

"_Only a few," Hermione said when she realised Draco was leaving it up to her. "Since we already live together, we don't really _need _to, we just do it to… get away, I suppose."_

_Draco nodded his agreement and watched as Alexis made a note on her piece of paper._

"_Now, the next few questions may be a bit… offensive, I guess you'd say, and you're welcome to ignore them if you wish."_

_Draco shrugged and Hermione simply nodded._

"_Mister Malfoy," Alexis began. "It's true that you once had… You-Know-Who as a… guest, is it not?"_

_Draco very nearly scoffed at the question. He'd been expecting this. "You can say _Voldemort_," he told her. "He's been dead for quite a while."_

_Alexis nodded. "So you did have… Voldemort-" she offered him a weak smile, which he ignored, but smirked as Hermione tensed. "-stay in your house for some time?"_

"_Yes."_

_Alexis wrote something down, her quill making an irritating scratching noise._

"_And your father was an… avid follower of the Dark Arts, correct?"_

"_Yes."_

_More scratching. Hermione found herself getting increasingly annoyed with the blonde-haired woman before her._

"_So, you admit to having Dark objects in this house at one time or another?"_

"_Do you need to ask?" Draco replied. "Lord Voldemort was my house guest and my father was his right-hand-man for a while. I think it's pretty obvious that there were some freaky things floating around the manor." He could have laughed as he realised that there were indeed freaky things floating around the manor at one point – such as teachers from his school and parts of Voldemort's soul._

"_Right," she said, and scratched something down again before turning to Hermione._

"_You're really marrying this man?"_

_Hermione groaned. "We're not getting married," she said, and held up her left hand. "No ring, see?" A little while later she realised she could have used it to get Alexis to stop making googly eyes at her boyfriend, but by then, it was way too late._

"_Uh huh," she said, and glanced at her watch._

"_Are we done?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice normal. Draco stifled a snort as he noticed it._

"_Yes, I suppose we are," Alexis said "I'll see you both tomorrow."_

"_Yes," Hermione said, giving a fake sweet smile. "I can't wait." _

_As Alexis disappeared in a burst of green flames, Draco burst out laughing._

"_What?"_

"'_I can't wait'," he mocked in a voice too high to be anything close to Hermione's._

_Hermione glared at him and smacked him on the arm. "Shut up."_

_Before she could even bat an eyelid, Draco had her pushed down on the sofa, him above her and her resting comfortably beneath him._

"_Want to try that again, Granger?" he asked, with a wicked grin on his face._

_Hermione gave him a smirk that rivalled his own and narrowed her eyes._

_Draco quirked an eyebrow, but the other quickly joined it as Hermione reached up and pulled his face down so she could kiss him._

_They were interrupted a few minutes later as Blaise burst in through the Floo, looking frantic._

_Draco was on his feet in seconds and, after a few whispered words to Blaise, he walked back to Hermione, - who was sitting on the couch watching curiously - kissed her forehead, told her he'd be back soon, and disappeared through the Floo after Blaise._

* * *

><p>The last two days passed fairly uneventfully; Alexis spent the second last day of the week questioning friends and relatives of the couple – that is, people who knew both of them – and the last day was spent giving her a tour of the manor.<p>

"_You share a bedroom?" Alexis asked, eyeing the room Hermione had accidentally dubbed 'their room' aloud._

"_Yes," they replied as one._

"_And Felicity stays in here with you?"_

"_Yes," Hermione said._

_"Do you ever have…?" the blonde woman asked, trailing off as she reached the end of her question._

"_Sex?" Draco supplied. Alexis nodded._

"_All the time," he said, giving her a grin that made her blush._

"_And Felicity is-?"_

"_Never present when we have it." Hermione cut her off, resisting the urge to glare at Draco. "Narcissa or the house elves are always looking after her if we do."_

"_Ah," Alexis said. "Alright."_

_They made their way back to the parlour, Hermione elbowing Draco in his side, and Alexis turned to them with a smile as she reached the fireplace._

"_Well, I'll see you some time in the next three days for your investigation without Lissy. Someone will be around tomorrow morning to pick her up."_

_Knowing she would regret it later, Hermione stepped away from Draco and lowered her voice. "Alexis, I know you really don't like me," she began._

"_Wh-?"_

"_No, I know you don't. Don't pretend you do. Just listen," Hermione took a deep breath. "I don't know what you've heard about Ron and me, or what they've told you about this whole thing, but you've got to believe me – Felicity is my daughter, and if I lose her, I don't know what I'll do. _Please,_" she begged. "Don't let them take her."_

_Sighing, Alexis nodded. "I'll do what I can."_

_Hermione grasped her hand and smiled at her gratefully. "Thank you."_

_Alexis gave her the first genuine smile of the week and, with one last nod to the couple, she disappeared._

"_What were you whispering to her about?" Draco asked as they walked out of the parlour and up to their rooms._

"_I was telling her all about the sex that we have _all the time_," she deadpanned, finally glaring at him. She slapped him on the arm once before stopping in the middle of the hallway. Draco, noticing she'd stopped, turned to face her, waiting._

"_What the hell were you thinking?" she screamed, startling some of the portraits._

_Draco shrugged. "I wasn't," he said honestly._

"_Obviously," Hermione sneered before turning and storming into her bedroom and locking the door._

_Draco smirked and walked to his own room. Later that night, he was shocked to find her door locked and charmed shut. Almost sadly, he walked back to his room – thinking she'd change her mind soon – and tried, unsuccessfully, for an hour, to sleep. After waking to another nightmare, he walked across the hall again to find her door still locked. He turned to the portrait of Vassy, noticing she was watching him, and raised an eyebrow._

"_She's upset, Draco. I think its best you don't see her."_

"_Did you-?"_

"_I charmed her door shut. She doesn't want to see you, Draco."_

_Draco tried hard to fight the sick feeling in the base of his stomach, to no avail. "Can you check on her?" he asked. "See if she's alright?"_

_Dejectedly, Vassy nodded. Just before she disappeared to her other portrait, Draco asked her something else._

"_Can you tell her I'm sorry? Please," he begged. Vassy knew then that he really was._

_Five minutes later, a tired Hermione pulled open the door, but didn't look up at him._

_Her hair was a mess, her face was blotchy from crying and she was wearing an oversized t-shirt and the baggiest sweatpants he'd seen in his life, but Draco, somehow, smiled at the sight; she still looked stunning._

Wait, _he thought. _Where did _that _come from?

"_Are you alright?" he asked when she said nothing._

_She shook her head. "I can't sleep."_

"_Neither can I," he admitted. There was a pregnant silence between them before he spoke, and his voice sounded so _broken, _and almost _desperate,_ that Hermione couldn't help but look up at him._

"_I'm really sorry, Hermione. I wasn't thinking when I said it."_

_Hermione, despite how angry she still was, gave him a small smile. "I overreacted," she confessed. "I just… after what I've been through, saying that… that happens all the time… well, it makes it less believable…"_

_Draco nodded. "I know," he said. "I'm sorry." He'd never apologised so much in his life!_

_Hermione smiled, wider this time, and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the room._

"_Come on, then," she said, and before long, they were both asleep._

* * *

><p>The following day, Hermione remained in her room, crying, clutching Lissy's teddy bear to her chest.<p>

Somehow, she'd slept through Draco's attempts to wake her – no matter what he did, she slept on – and he'd had to give Lissy away without Hermione getting to say goodbye. He'd tried as hard as he could to get them to wait until she woke up, but they wouldn't listen, and so, when Hermione woke two hours later, he'd had to tell her that her daughter was gone.

"_I'm so sorry, Hermione," he'd told her. "I tried. I really did."_

"_I know," she'd replied calmly._

_Draco was waiting for her to start crying, but she never did. Not even when he Flooed away half an hour later for work after sitting with her in silence._

_It was after he was gone that Hermione charmed her door shut, disconnected her Floo and cast Anti-apparition wards around her room - bathroom and wardrobe included._

_She'd then picked up Lissy's teddy bear, climbed on to her bed and cried._

_For four hours._

* * *

><p>Draco banged on her door harshly, rattling the portraits nearby, but he didn't stop. He'd been doing it for fifteen minutes and Hermione still refused to answer. She hadn't cast any Silencing Charms, he knew, because he could hear her sobbing.<p>

"Hermione!" he called for the fiftieth time. "Hermione, let me in!"

The only response he got was more sobbing.

He turned to Vassy's portrait. "Please," he begged.

Vassy shook her head. "If I go in that portrait, I won't be able to get back to this one. She's charmed it."

"I don't care!" Draco shouted, slightly impressed that Hermione had thought of _everything_. "Go and talk some sense into her!"

Vassy waited until he'd let out a quiet plea to walk into her other portrait, and she felt the trapping magic pulse through the oil of her painting when she did.

Outside the room, Draco slid down the wall, pulled his knees up and rested his face in his hands. "What have I done?" he whispered to himself.

"Hermione," Vassy said quietly, watching the sobbing woman on her bed.

"Go away," Hermione croaked out, even though she knew it was now impossible for her to do so.

"Hermione, you need to let him in."

"I don't _need_ to do anything!"

"He wants to help you," Vassy said.

"He can't."

"How do you know?"

Hermione pulled her head off her knees and glared at Vassy's frame. "My daughter has been _taken_," she said. "I didn't get to say goodbye to her."

"Draco lost his son," Vassy reasoned.

"He got to say goodbye."

"His son is dead," Vassy said, with so much conviction that Hermione flinched. "Your daughter is just temporarily absent."

Hermione knew she shouldn't feel so bad after that, but she couldn't help it. She turned away from the painting and sulked. "He still got to say goodbye."

"And you'll still get to say _hello_ again. Just let him in, Hermione. You don't have to talk to him."

"He'll want me to."

"Who cares?" Vassy asked. "It's about time he learnt he won't always get what he wants. Just let him in."

Hermione, despite herself, chuckled. "I guess… but on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Will you tell me what your story is? I've noticed that the other portraits ignore you and… I was wondering why that is."

Vassy sighed. "When I was alive, I was called Vasilissa Rosemarie Malfoy. I'm Draco's – oh, let me think," she paused for a minute. "I'm his great-great-great grandfather's sister. The reason a lot of the other portrait's ignore me – mainly those that are family members – is because I 'betrayed' the family. I fell in love with a muggle from our village and, even though I knew that none of my family members approved, I loved him openly. We walked around the village together all the time – we were very much in love – and my father caught us. He had me sent away to Hogwarts, where I was very nearly sorted into Hufflepuff – much to my father's disappointment – and when I returned after a few years of travel, I met my love again, but somehow he and the village had figured out I was a witch, and he said he loved me no longer."

Hermione gasped. "But he must have known that you were going against your family to be with him, surely?"

Vassy shook her head, "No, my dear. He did not suspect that my family were magical, just me. I did, however, make a deal with him – I would die if he left my family alone. They had me burnt at the stake then, and I have been in the frame outside this room since. It turns out that my brother, Pavo Draconis Malfoy, who also believed muggles were not as bad, saved a family of muggles from a burning building not long after, perhaps three to four years, but my father, seeing this, had him trapped in the building until it burnt out. My brother holds me responsible, because it was my love's family he saved, but it was alright, I suppose, because he had already had a wife and two sons by this time, therefore continuing the Malfoy line. Over two hundred years after I died, someone painted a small portrait of my portrait, allowing me to pass into it whenever I so wished and that is the one I am in now. That was one of my brother's descendants who held similar beliefs to my own. This was his room, too, like it had been mine. You see, due to what had happened during my family's time in the village, all the Wizarding families were under threat, so they moved here, to the Malfoy Manor – that's why there are so many rooms – and the only room he had left to stay in was this, and he went willingly."

"Was he disowned, like you?"

"Oh, no, not at all. You see, he did well to hide his beliefs."

Hermione was silent for almost a minute before she replied. "I'm just wondering… is this relevant to your story?"

"Perhaps not," Vasilissa admitted. "But I thought it nice to tell you anyway. There have been numerous Malfoy's like him since, though they have all hidden it well from their more… prejudiced… family members, and I've set it firmly in my mind that Draco is much the same."

Hermione smiled. "You're not going to suggest it's because of me, are you?"

"Oh, no, dear," she said with a small chuckle. "He follows after his mother, naturally, and she is much like me, but I've no doubt in my mind you are helping him along that path."

Hermione wiped the tears from her face and looked at the door. "I suppose I should let him in, shouldn't I?"

Vassy nodded. "He is worried."

Hermione made to move, but Vassy called her back.

"Perhaps let me out, first, and I will tell you if he is still there, and still willing to see you. I'd also like to see what kind of state he is in."

Hermione nodded and cast the counter-charm on Vassy's portrait so she was able to leave. As she left, she undid all the charms she had cast on the room, leaving the door closed as she sat on her bed waiting.

* * *

><p>Vassy returned to her larger portrait, outside the room, and saw Draco sitting in the same position he'd been in since she'd gone into the room.<p>

"Draco," she said. He jolted at her voice and jumped to his feet when he realised who it was.

"Is she alright? Will she let me in?" he asked, almost desperately.

"Yes," Vassy said. "I have convinced her. She should have undone the charms by now. I'll go and check," she told him, and returned a moment later.

"Well?"

Vassy nodded.

Draco moved to open the door, but paused, looking at Vasilissa gratefully. "Thank you," he told her.

Vassy simply smiled as he opened the door and disappeared inside it.

* * *

><p>"Hermione?" he asked tentatively, pushing the door closed after he entered the room and leaning against it.<p>

Hermione looked up from her place on the bed and offered him a sad smile, which he took as a sign that she wasn't going to try and kill him with children's toys. He stepped forward slowly until he was at the edge of the bed and sat on it, watching her.

"I overreacted," Hermione said. "I'm-"

"No," Draco cut her off. "Don't you dare apologise."

"Bu-"

"Granger, I let them take your daughter without letting you say goodbye. I'm the one at fault here, not you."

Hermione watched him silently for a minute before narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my boyfriend?"

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"What?" Draco asked, ignoring the flip his stomach made when she called him her boyfriend.

"You've apologised… a lot… recently, and the Draco Malfoy I know would _never_ do that."

"Haven't I said before that you don't know me at all?"

Hermione chuckled. "You have, actually. I like to think I know you better now than I did then, though," she said.

Draco smiled. "Yes, well, I can assure you, I'm still me. I really think you'd notice if I was anything less than the perfect me… because I _am_ perfect."

"Yeah, you're definitely you," Hermione said. "You're still arrogant."

"Not arrogant – confident."

"_Over_-confident, if you ask me."

"Well,_ I_ certainly didn't."

Hermione rolled her eyes and punched him, albeit gently, on the arm.

"I really am sorry, Granger," he told her. "I tried, but… well, they didn't listen."

Hermione offered him a gentle smile and shuffled closer to him so she could lean on his shoulder. "I know," she said, resting her head against him. "And I'm grateful."

"Grateful? I did nothing for you to-"

"You _tried_, Draco," she cut him off. "You tried, and that – that's what I'm grateful for. I would hate you if you didn't at least try."

"So you don't hate me?"

"No," she admitted. "Not at all. Do you?"

"Hate myself?" Draco scoffed. "Hardly."

Hermione elbowed him in the side harshly, eliciting a groan from him. "That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

A smile, "I know, but I felt like saying it anyway."

A frown, "Prat."

A smirk, "Know-it-all."

A sigh, "Oh, original Draco; real original."

Another smirk, "I'm a genius."

Another groan, "Yes, and I'm God."

Another frown, "What?"

Another sigh, "Never mind."

A huff, "Tell me."

A laugh, "No."

A plea, "_Please?_"

A coo, "Aww."

A grunt, "Shut up."

Another coo, "Come here."

Another huff, "No."

A kiss on the cheek, "Better?"

"No."

A kiss closer to the mouth, "Now?"

"No."

A kiss on the corner of the mouth, "How abo-"

A tumble, "Shut up, would you?"

From below, "Make me."

A smirk, "Gladly."

A few real kisses.

Sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Okay, I know these guys sleep a lot, but... whatever. XD. Oh, and, uh, no... they haven't gone further than kissing with just lips yet, in case you're wondering. THEY'RE NOT THAT WEIRD.**

**But we'll get there, I promise. XD**

**This chapter is short, I know, but I wanted to get this particular week out of the way, cause... it's really not important... OR MAYBE IT IS. JDKLAFJADKLF.**

**YOU DON'T KNOW. HA.**

**Thank you for all your reviews on the last chapter, by the way :) HANDS UP IF YOU WANT A DATE LIKE THAT! *raises both hands***

**OH - AND INTERESTING FACT - I'm doing another RP, as Draco, with this RPG on tumblr (harrypotter-rpg(.)tumblr(.)com). You guys should join in. There's a whole heap of characters free! AND WE MIGHT BE DOING A DRAMIONE SHIP. WITH ME. LOL. THAT'LL BE GOOD.**

**Anyway, R&R&L dears!**

**Oh, and story may be on hiatus or something when Christmas comes around - I might to a chrissy dramione one-shot just for you if you want, before I disappear, though, if you want. :D YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME IDEAS THOUGH. AU, EWE, Next-Gen, Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts... which characters involved? TELL ME WHAT CHU WANT.**

**Only one review to really answer: EsemmeTresemme: YES. AUSSIES RULE. WOO. You from Australia too, or no? :P Thank you, by the way, for your comment :)**

**longauthorsnoteislong.**

**~ Originality**

**p.s. sorry for taking so long to update. FJKDAFJDKLA. I ARE BAD UPLOADER.**


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